


Ephēmerís

by katjedi



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Adventure, Ainu Mythology & Folklore, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Canon-Typical Violence, Family, Friendship, Gen, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Role Reversal, does this count as a halloween fic??, if asteria isn’t giving me alluring werewolf!Sorey, then i’ll just write it myself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 23:04:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16438511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katjedi/pseuds/katjedi
Summary: The young apprentice onmyōji Mikleo found himself the new owner of his late mother's strange book,Ephēmerís. Together with Sorey the ōkami—a white wolf spirit who had taken an interest in Mikleo since their encounter in the forest—the two began to form an unlikely friendship as they work to unravel the mystery and hidden power of Muse's book.





	Ephēmerís

**Author's Note:**

> This story was supposed to be a submission for the Sormik Fairy-Tale zine project, but real life had been rough for me this year and I wasn't able to meet the deadline. But I still liked the ideas enough to continue it so here's the finish piece! Nami, who was originally partnered with me, was also still kind enough to share some concept art. You can find them [here](https://twitter.com/defragmentise/status/978986940878938115) and [here.](https://twitter.com/defragmentise/status/1038907589067649025)
> 
> Edit: The lovely Toradh also drew fanart of [ōkami!Sorey.](https://applegelstore.tumblr.com/post/179625841214/for-laindir-katjedi-3-i-may-have-died-a)
> 
>  
> 
> Glossary and detailed notes can be found at the end of the story.

* * *

**_Ephēmerís Monogatari:  
  
_** a Zestiria fic; Onmyōji and Ōkami AU. **  
**

* * *

 

 **~.*.~**  
  
  
**  
e·phēm·er·ís** / noun /  
i. ( _obsolete_ ) a diary or journal  
ii. ( _astronomy_ ) a table giving the apparent position of celestial bodies  
throughoutthe year; normally given as right ascension and declination

 

* * *

**  
_i._  
  
**

  
He barely knew her, let alone remembered her.  
  
But as the saying goes, blood is thicker than water. And even if she had been his mother only in name, he felt compelled—not by filial piety or duty, no—by courtesy and by a touch of sympathy, to take pause in his apprenticeship in the Capital when he’d received the news, hastening back to Camlann.  
  
Mikleo couldn’t quite bring himself to begrudge Muse of her absence during his childhood, however. It was hard to when she’d left home when he was but a toddler, leaving him in the care of her brother, Michael, the village shrine priest. And while he’d never felt lonesome as he was raised with care and affection, he had, admittedly, always been curious about Muse’s reasons for leaving—was it by choice or just circumstance?  
  
Mikleo found himself lost in these thoughts as he sat, knees bent in seiza, on the veranda of his uncle’s home. He still wasn’t quite sure how to process the new information given to him on such short notice. His uncle, seated beside him, was gazing out at the blooming garden with rueful eyes; he had made no attempt to elaborate further.  
  
“Uncle Michael,” Mikleo began, fingers brushing over the book he’d been presented with just moments before. “I know this must be important, but I don’t think I quite understand yet.”  
  
A pause, as Mikleo waited for a nod, a reply of sorts. But Michael only reached for a cup of steaming tea from the tray set before them. He lifted it to his lips, taking careful sips in the silence that lingered, stretched thin and long, until Mikleo wondered if he should speak again—  
  
Then Michael broke the silence with an abrupt, awkward cough into his fist.

“Well then,” he said, balancing the cup between his fingers. “So... As I was saying—Ah, where were we again?”  
  
Mikleo held up the book before him.  
  
“Ah, right, right.” Michael cleared his throat, tried again. “Your mother’s book—well, yours now, really. It had always been Muse’s wish for you to have it. A treasured keepsake, if you will. Perhaps it would have been better if I’d given it to you right after she passed on, but, ah—”  
  
Another pause, then a soft clack, as Michael placed the cup back on the tray.  
  
“You were still so very young then and—I hadn’t wished to burden you with such heavy choices either when you were still a child. So, I waited and now—Well, _they_ have waited long enough. It is time.”  
  
Mikleo blinked, trying to make sense of his uncle’s puzzling words. He swept his gaze back down over the book, studying the cracks and hardened creases on the leather cover, the title **_Ephēmerís_** inked in bold, black script. The book was wider than the length of his palm, stitched together by hand with a rich crimson binding. The pages were now yellow, grainy to the touch, and upon every sheet were large inscriptions inked in velvet black. He recognised the inscriptions as Ancient Avarost glyphs and could easily read the sounds each letter represented. But strung together in lines like this on every page, the glyphs held no meaning—at least, not any he could discern right now.  
  
“But what do I do with the book… With _Ephēmerís_?” Mikleo asked, just as Michael was visited by yet another bout of awkward coughing, before he attempted both a nervous and cryptic smile as he said: “Whatever you wish and deem necessary. It is yours now, Mikleo.”   
  
He would have pressed his uncle for more information, to dig deeper. But Michael rose to his feet then, smoothing down the front of his robes by way of changing the subject, before he headed towards the kitchen.  
  
“Dinner smells just about ready. I tried to follow Lailah’s recipe as best I could—I know you’ve always been fond of her dragostew, but, ah, don’t get your hopes up, all right?”  
  
Mikleo sighed, and knew that was that.  
  
Admittedly, being home again was a nice feeling, even if his uncle’s cooking was still as he remembered—a little burnt and smoky, but otherwise satisfying. As he sipped the warm, fragrant stew from his bowl, he realised how much he’d really missed this—the quiet but hearty conversations over dinner, the way Michael’s face would scrunch up with awkward chuckles as he attempted a bad joke or two. Mikleo almost wished he could stay a day or two longer.  
  
Still, even as an apprentice onmyōji, there were responsibilities to fulfil. So, after an evening of reminiscing and catching up, and a good night’s rest in his old bedroom, Mikleo was sent off with flourish at dawn the next day (but not before Michael made him promise to visit again).  
  
The journey back to Ladylake would take a good part of the day. The path leading from the village border soon narrowed into a smaller trail that cut through the Tranquil Forest. Mikleo didn’t mind the journey; while he couldn’t say he was fond of the growing daytime heat and the occasional stinging bite from a gnat or two, he appreciated the time alone to collect his thoughts, to ruminate over his mother’s book—no, it was _his_ book now.  
  
Mikleo paused in his steps, reaching into his travelling pack to retrieve _Ephēmerís_. He pulled it open, running his fingers over the inked text as he carefully flipped through the pages. So engrossed was he in deciphering the inked lines that he didn’t notice the creeping shadows that had been stalking him since he entered the forest; the spectral shapes grew large and menacing the further he walked down the trail.  
  
His only warning was the faint, chilling breeze, the heavy silence settling over him like a cloak—and suddenly, he was keenly aware of how the birds in the canopy above had ceased their singing.  
  
He froze, instinctively reaching for his beads and paper charms, mentally berating himself—Lailah would have disapproved such carelessness. A low growl sounded from behind him and a shadowy spectral-like figure came crashing from the underbrush towards him.  
  
The noise and the flash of teeth was enough to break him out of his brief stupor. Mikleo dodged just as the dark mass of an unknown beast rushed past him, one arm raised to cast his ofuda charms around him in a protective barrier. But he’d misjudged the beast’s speed; before he could finish the incantation, it charged at him again. Mikleo gasped as he rolled aside, feeling the beast’s breath over him, menacing jaws snapping at thin air as it narrowly missed his arm.  
  
He stumbled back up to his feet, reaching for the dagger tucked in his obi when he heard another eerie sound—the bone-chilling howl of a wolf. The spectral beast—it was a _bakemono_ , he was certain now, but not one he’d recognised from this forest—whipped its head around just as another creature stepped into the fray.  
  
It was a silver-white wolf, muscles rippling under its sleek fur as it lunged forward and easily tackled the dark beast. Mikleo could only watch in silent awe and trepidation, struck by the wolf’s ethereal beauty—the gleam of razor-sharp teeth and claws; the long and large tail trailing behind it with every graceful leap; the bright feathered ornaments flashing like lightning from the tips of its velvet ears.  
  
Mikleo watched, unmoving, caught between a dreamlike state of fear and curiosity, between the battle as the two beasts—one white and one black—snarled and snapped viciously, whirling around and over each other, rising like ferocious thunderstorms breathed to life by the gods. Being the more agile of the two, the white wolf lashed forward, pinning the spectral beast down into the dirt with a large paw and growled a warning.  
  
The spectral beast bared its cruel fangs, gave one last struggle and then, with a loud— _pop!_ —and in a puff of wispy smoke, transformed into a small kitsune, a fox-spirit. The fox huddled in the long grass and drew back from the wolf, before it let out a frightened yip and scampered off quickly into the bushes ahead.  
  
It was only when Mikleo felt the wolf’s gaze upon him that he was shaken from his stupor. The wolf angled its head sideways as it watched him, its long, bushy tail waving languidly. Mikleo found himself drawn in to its steady gaze—to those large, curious eyes, green like spring in flourish and flecked with gold and hazel. He moved forward, stretching a hand out towards to the wolf to seemingly touch it, before he started; he paused and blinked, suddenly realising what he had tried to do and the situation he was in.  
  
_Such novice carelessness!_ Lailah’s voice rang clearly within him. Mikleo shook his head and reached for the small bell charm from his belt. The wolf flinched, ears twitching as the clear, ringing peals sounded through the forest. With the wolf now distracted, Mikleo cast his ofuda charms again, casting a protective barrier around him as he quickly fled down the path and out of the strange, enchanted forest.  
  
That night, back in the safety of the city and asleep in his bed, Mikleo dreamt of wandering, searching for the white wolf—of rivers snaking through the lush forests and the rising moon beyond the snow-capped mountain; of a young man with evergreen eyes flecked with hazel and gold.

 

* * *

   
_**ii.** _

 

The Capital’s famed onmyōji, Sumeragi no Lailah—better known to the people as Lady Lailah the All-Seer—had known Michael since their childhood days. They had studied onmyōdō together under the tutelage of the priestess Lady Shigure—reading patterns in the weather; casting yarrow stalks to sieve fortunes from in-between the bustle of daily life; chanting and committing to memory the purification rites.  
  
They were friendly rivals and heart-companions, and Mikleo admired and gazed upon Lailah with the same respect he held for his dear uncle. Still, if there was one thing he was grateful for, it was that Lailah shared none of Uncle Michael’s… quirks. Or his penchant for fits of coughing and wheezing whenever a particularly difficult topic came up.  
  
Not that Lailah didn’t avoid unavoidable subjects sometimes—she just did it with more finesse, with many more bad jokes in between. And she was _very_ good at testing her young apprentice’s resolve and patience at pursuing answers.  
  
“Curious… Very, very curious, indeed.”  
  
Lailah nibbled at the tips of her chopsticks, eyes half-closed as she savoured the taste of rice and mackerel, mulling over her apprentice’s words.  
  
Seated across the table, Mikleo was carefully picking at the last shreds of fish from his plate. He did not feel particularly hungry this morning; his feet ached still from his journey back from Camlann and from his encounter in the forest, and last night’s dream lingered over him like morning mist.  
  
“That’s not the only thing either,” Mikleo said, setting his chopsticks down and pushing his plate aside. “I know Uncle Michael was only trying to make it easier by letting _me_ decide, instead of forcing it upon me. And while I don’t think he’d meant for it to come across as so, but I now feel like I’ll need to give it some careful consideration and ultimately be responsible for it. It’s all that’s left of Mother’s legacy, after all.”  
  
Mikleo paused and shook his head then, as though he’d suddenly recalled where they were.  
  
“My apologies,” he said, bowing his head. “I shouldn’t be airing such trivial concerns over breakfast. I’d only wanted to know your thoughts about all this… but only if it’s still all right to ask, of course. I didn’t mean to trouble you.”  
  
Lailah chuckled at that. “Be at ease, little one. These concerns seem far from trivial, especially from a family as attuned to the mystic forces and spiritual energy as yours. As for my thoughts? Well, you really don’t visit Camlann as often as you should, for one. I admire your diligence and single-minded focus when it comes to work, Mikleo, but I’m fairly certain your uncle would be happier to see you more.”  
  
Mikleo sighed, trying to keep from frowning _too_ hard; he knew Lailah was only slightly teasing him. “I’d meant about _Ephēmerís_ , Master…”  
  
“Ah, yes, _Ephēmerís_. Muse’s book.” Lailah’s lips quirked into a knowing smile at her apprentice’s impatience. “It’s no ordinary book for sure. The magic bound to it is far stronger than many things I’ve encountered in the lands across Glenwood.”  
  
She paused, her expression suddenly grim. Mikleo didn’t dare break the thoughtful silence that came over his Master then; he watched as Lailah finished the last bits of her breakfast, before she glanced over at the book placed on the tatami mat beside Mikleo.  
  
“I recall sensing a similar spiritual energy only twice when I was an apprentice travelling with Lady Shigure,” Lailah began softly. “Both were from powerful _kami_ that have existed for centuries old. I’m afraid there are no easy answers to this, my young student. But as with many things, perhaps the best way is to start at the beginning. _Ephēmerís_ isn’t the only thing entrusted to you, I believe?” She nodded at the bronze circlet around Mikleo’s left wrist.  
  
“No,” Mikleo replied, looking over the circlet as well—it was embellished with a few green and yellow glass beads, and a single pale blue gemstone.  
  
“There’s also a box of trinkets; collectables that Uncle wasn’t sure if Mother had picked up on her own or if they were gifts from friends. But as far as I know, Uncle said she had always wandered the lands alone.”  
  
“Perhaps there are parts of Muse that even her brother isn’t aware of. There is only so much you can glean from a person’s life from a distance.” Lailah frowned, hands clasped before her. “The past can hold truths we might not wish to learn, Mikleo, and with magic as powerful as this bound to Muse’s book… It would be wise to tread carefully, or to _not_ go down this path at all. If it troubles you this much, then perhaps it’s best to seal it away for good.”  
  
At those words, Mikleo started, looking up in surprise. “Wha—? But the inscriptions in the book—they must mean _something_. And there’s the matter of Mother’s own wishes—I mean, there has to be more to uncover, and I need—” he faltered, turning towards _Ephēmerís_ again.  
  
“And what of it, young one?” Lailah asked, a twinkle of mirth in those brilliant teal eyes.  
  
Mikleo resisted the urge to fiddle at the hem of his sleeve; instead, he exhaled softly, resting both hands over his lap. He wondered how best to articulate his thoughts, wondered if Lailah would object to this pressing desire to search for answers. For some reason, Mikleo found himself hesitant to divulge about last night’s dream, of his brush with the shadow beast in the forest and the strange white wolf...  
  
“It’s just… I need to know, Lady Lailah,” he said simply. “Not out of duty or even a misguided sense of obligation—well, not _solely_ due to that. But I want to learn about my mother. The person she was, what she did during all the time she'd wandered far from home. The things she had seen, the life she had lived. It’s regrettable that circumstances had kept us so apart, so unknown to each other over the years. But if this book—if _Ephēmerís_ and the rest of her possessions can still help me with that, then… I want to _know_ Muse.”  
  
“I see,” Lailah said, still smiling faintly. “Then you’ve already made up your mind about what you’ll do, haven’t you, Mikleo?”  
  
“Oh… I-I guess I did.”  
  
“Well, then it’s settled. I’ll leave to you to sort it out—as long as you promise you’ll take extra care in your quest for answers and that you won’t do anything _too_ reckless.”  
  
Mikleo nodded, feeling relieved.  
  
“I do somewhat sense there’s more weighting on your mind than just the book,” Lailah continued nonchalantly as she began to clear the empty dishes and utensils. “But that can wait, I suppose. Come, we should get the cleaning done so we can begin preparations for the blessing ceremony of Lord Rohan’s firstborn.”  
  
Mikleo flushed slightly at that, but moved to help her with the chores. There was always a poised and placid grace about her, but Lailah the All-Seer was still perspicacious to even the subtlest of one’s innate desires.

 

* * *

   
_**iii.**_

  
He did not dream anymore of the young man with the gold-flecked eyes as the weeks went by. Daily tasks and work in the Capital’s shrine temple kept him otherwise occupied. Still, Mikleo pondered over Muse’s book and his strange encounter in the Tranquil Forest often enough. He would recall vividly the gleam of fangs and bright green eyes; the way the wolf’s graceful tail had glowed silver-white, weaving through the shadows like a beacon. He wondered if he’d ever have another chance to look upon the magnificent creature again, in all its mystical beauty. It must’ve been an _ōkami_ ,a wolf-spirit deity, he was almost certain of it.  
  
(Little did Mikleo realise, his desire for answers had also taken root in another—one who shared a similar ache for knowledge, and was as fervently curious, if not more so.)  
  
He was sitting alone on the veranda of the study room one morning and practising his calligraphy work when he’d felt it—first, the sensation of being watched and a tingling along the length of his spine; the imperceptible hum in the air that hinted at shifting spiritual energy.  
  
Mikleo only paused briefly, tightening his grip around his brush. He drew the next rune glyph slowly, keeping his eyes on the parchment paper laid out before him, even as he caught a flash of movement on the far side of the garden. It was not the first time yōkai had strayed into the vicinity of his Master’s home; they were attracted to Lailah’s own spiritual powers and resonance. But lesser yōkai were unable to cross the protective barriers, the kekkai and ofuda that Lailah had meticulously placed around her home. If one had managed to stray this far into the garden...  
  
Mikleo glanced up at a rustling sound from within the hydrangea bushes, one hand reaching for his bells. The bell chimes would probably be enough of a ward to drive the yōkai away, but he made sure his bow and sacred arrows were also within easy reach.  
  
The rustling stopped after a moment, and suddenly all was still again. Mikleo strained his senses; listening, sieving through muted chirps and buzzing of birds and insects in the background, searching for any lingering hint of spiritual energy.  
  
When he could not discern any, he relaxed his shoulders and—  
  
— _Crash!_ —  
  
Mikleo jolted to his feet, instinctively nocking an arrow as he turned towards the noise from the study. Broken pieces of a ceramic vase were strewn across the floor. Something darted before him; he saw what looked like a small rabbit racing about in a panicked frenzy before it realised it was being watched. It squeaked in fear, its body and limbs going rigid in mid-hop, and then fell over with a loud clatter.  
  
When he rushed into the room to inspect the creature, Mikleo was surprised to find a small wooden doll on the floor instead, carved into the shape of a rodent-like creature.  
  
_A Nor doll…?_ As he lifted it off the floor, Mikleo could feel spiritual energy imbued in it. He heard the rustling from the bushes again, louder and more persistent, and then a voice—a concerned whisper:  
  
_“Atakk, hurry back out! He’s going to notice us and—A-ah!”_ _  
  
_ Mikleo caught sight of a silver-white tail scrambling out of sight just as he stepped back out to the veranda.  
  
_Ah, there are two of them… No, this one is different. Much more powerful than a normal yōkai, a more powerful being. Could it be…?  
  
_ There was a tingle of familiarity—he’d sensed this aura before, back in the Tranquil Forest and his encounter with the white wolf, the ōkami. He should really be more alarmed at this knowledge and at the abrupt turn of events, but the sight of canine-like ears sticking out conspicuously from the bushes (despite the its attempts at staying hidden) was enough to draw a soft chuckle from him.  
  
“My apologies,” Mikleo said after a moment. He lowered his arrow, balancing the Nor doll carefully upon his palm. “I didn’t mean to scare you both. But you really shouldn’t be traipsing uninvited into my Master’s home like this. I don’t sense any malicious aura from you however, so…”  
  
The Nor doll wiggled in his palm and hopped down to the veranda as it transformed back into a small grey yōkai—a normin. It fiddled with the bronze helmet over its head, gazing up at Mikleo with beady black eyes.  
  
“Huh, a human who can not only sense us, but also talk with us! I see now why you’d wanted so much to meet him again, Sor—”  
  
“ _Atakk_ ,” the voice from the bushes cut in. It sounded as steady as before, when Mikleo first heard it speak, but there was an edge of urgency to it now.  
  
“ _Gramps said to be cautious when speaking with humans, even younglings like this one_.”  
  
“Younglings?” Mikleo echoed before he could stop himself, feeling a spike of indignance. He frowned. “You sound nearly as mature as I, and that’s not really saying much.”  
  
_“What—! I’m_ definitely _far older than you, and—H-hey, wait, you can sense my voice even when I’m not speaking directly to you?”_ The pointed ears twitched, before disappearing under the cover of blooming flowers. Mikleo could still see the wolf’s long silver-white tail trailing out from the side of the bush, however.  
  
“My family has always been strongly attuned to mystical forces, and with high enough resonance to fully perceive the obake and things not of the mortal realm,” Mikleo explained. “I can hear and sense your voices clearly in my mind even when you speak in your own tongue. I’ve always been able to, even as an infant.”  
  
Struck by an idea, he gave the normin _—Atakk, was it?—_ a reassuring nod, before turning to his calligraphy desk and reaching for the snack he’d prepared for himself earlier.  Then he moved from the veranda to the hydrangea bushes, careful to allow enough space between him and the wolf hiding in the bush. He didn’t wish to agitate it further—as it was, he should’ve used his bells earlier to drive both spirits away. But despite his initial wariness, curiosity had slowly gotten the better of him (and it certainly wasn’t the _first_ time either, he thought, somewhat guiltily). When he’d first seen those pointed ears and that silver-white tail in the bushes, he could hardly contain his exhilaration, in the hope that maybe, just _maybe_ … _  
  
_ “You’re the one who helped me that day, aren’t you? The ōkami in the Tranquil Forest?” Mikleo asked, crouching down. He held out the snack—aka-gome onigiri wrapped with bamboo leaf—as an offering of peace and gratitude. “Thank you for protecting me back then. I had always hoped to be able to see you again.”  
  
The silver-white tail twitched slowly, but the wolf remained silent for a long beat. Mikleo wondered if he’d been too forward then, too eager with his words. But there was more rustling as the bushes quivered, and the figure of a young man slowly emerged from between the pink and lilac blossoms.  
  
Mikleo watched, enthralled, as the young man cautiously approached him, sniffing at his hand and the proffered snack. Despite his initial skittishness, there was a boyish, almost mischievous charm about the man’s profile. Mikleo couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of  an alluringly well-defined chest and lean muscles beneath the folds of his white and blue kosode, his height accentuated by a hakama patterned with green and burnt-orange stripes like summer fireworks. His dark hair was wonderfully tousled and streaked with ash-blonde tips, his green eyes flecked with gold and hazel.  
  
Mikleo willed himself to stay composed as the man the circled him, studying him carefully—he wore the form of a human now, but his shadow remained that of a large and powerful wolf, and Mikleo was well aware of how much stronger the ōkami’s aura was, stronger than most obake he’d encountered before. Still, he found himself quietly amused at how the man’s  long tail trailed stiffly behind him, and how his ears remained slanted and velvet-furred with bright feathered ornaments dangling from the tips.  
  
The man finally accepted the onigiri and then sat, almost dog-like, upon the grass, head tilted sideways  in curious fascination. He removed the bamboo leaf and  took a tentative bite.  
  
“Oh! This—this is really good!” he said, eyes wide in surprise. He gulped down the rest of the onigiri, savouring the flavour of pickled sweetfish. “I’ve always wondered what food in the city tasted like. Nothing beats the thrill and taste from a good hunt, of course, but human food really isn’t as bad as Gramps made it out to be.”  
  
“I see…” Mikleo said. The food offering seemed to have calmed the young man; he was smiling widely now, his tail waving languidly from side to side as he watched Mikleo with keen eyes.  
  
“Oh, where are my manners? I’m Sorry—A-ah! I mean, my name is _Sorey_. We really didn’t mean to intrude; Atakk and I were just exploring around and we came into this garden by chance.”  
  
Atakk hopped close to Sorey’s side, gazing up at him with furrowed brows. “By chance? But you said we needed to come here to look for— _ack!_ ” Atakk’s helmet fell over his eyes just as Sorey’s tail flicked it lightly, obscuring his view.  
  
“Okay, so maybe it wasn’t all _just_ by chance,” Sorey said sheepishly when Mikleo gave him a questioning look. “B-but I swear I wasn’t stalking you! I had just wanted to—I mean, I was curious about you humans, so I thought that maybe… Uh, are you laughing? _Again?_ ”  
  
Mikleo tried to hide his laughter, he really did. But seeing such a powerful being all flustered about _stalking a human_ … Well, he figured he had to thank Maotelus that Sorey seemed more the curious sort, instead of a malevolent spirit that had grown attracted to his resonance and was driven to consume him for his spiritual powers and mana.  
  
He shook those dark thoughts away and offered Sorey a contrite grin. “My apologies. I wasn’t laughing at you per se. All right, _maybe_ a little—”  
  
“H-Hey!” Sorey flattened his ears, flushing slightly.  
  
“I was just surprised, that’s all,” Mikleo continued soothingly. “In my line of work, I’ve met a good number of beings that aren’t exactly what I would call friendly or kind. So, I’m honestly glad you and Atakk seem quite the opposite.”  
  
He bowed graciously, first at Sorey, and then at Atakk. “I’m Tsumimori Mikleo, apprentice of the venerable onmyōji master, Sumeragi no Lailah, the All-Seer. Thank you again for protecting me from the shadow beasts.”  
  
Sorey grinned as  he returned the bow, slightly abashed. “It was nothing, really. You were in trouble, and those creatures knew better to trespass into Gramps’ domain…”  
  
Mikleo would have enjoyed conversing with Sorey and Atakk more, but there was a sudden loud creak from the hallway beyond the study room, followed by shuffling steps and a familiar voice:  
  
“Mikleo, I’m home. Are you still working in the study?”  
  
Atakk was already scrambling up Sorey’s shoulder, hissing, “We really should leave now!”  
  
“But…” Sorey gave Mikleo torn gaze, even as the fur along the length of his tail bristled.  
  
“Mikleo?” The footsteps grew closer, and the shoji door to the study slid open. “Oh, there you are. Why are you standing around in the garden for?”  
  
Mikleo blinked, suddenly realizing how odd he must have looked to Lailah then, gazing blankly at the hydrangea bushes. He attempted a smile, feigning nonchalance.  
  
“I’d just wanted a bit of fresh air… And to, er, appreciate how much the hydrangeas were blooming.”  
  
“Right under the blazing sun?” Lailah raised a delicate eyebrow. “You could have appreciated them fine from here.”  
  
She didn’t question any further, however. Mikleo let out a soft sigh, stepping back on to the veranda, but not before he swept another furtive glance around the garden. All was still, with no sign of either the normin or ōkami, the only movement the bobbing of pink and lilac blossoms in the afternoon breeze.

 

* * *

**  
_iv._ **

 

It was not unusual for Mikleo to stand in for his Master at times. Being one of the Capital’s illustrious onmyōji, Lailah was respected by both state officials and the public alike, and was often called away for business. She was kept particularly busy during auspicious days, attending to festivals, purification rituals, and even divination readings at the behest of highly-ranked courtiers.  
  
Lailah usually had Mikleo accompany and assist her for the more challenging tasks—things like dealings with the obake, and conducting purification rites to ward off troubling or meddlesome spirits. Not simply due to Mikleo’s affinity for mystical forces or because it was good training for an apprentice, no. But mostly because Lailah was aware how much Mikleo dreaded it, whenever he was coyly requested by a handful of the court ladies (and even, on two occasions, by the male heir of a visiting nobleman) to appear for their readings as well—all in hopes that they’d catch a glimpse of Lady Lailah’s charming young apprentice.  
  
Mikleo shuddered internally just at the thought of it. He was grateful to be kept occupied elsewhere, at a distance from the complexities of court life.  
  
“Thanks for attending to us on such short notice. We really didn’t mean to trouble you, but it’s only gotten worse lately, even if the lady boss loathes to admit it.” The low voice drew Mikleo back to the task at hand; he shook his head at the tall man keeping pace beside him.  
  
“It’s really no trouble at all, Eguille,” Mikleo said. “The Sparrowfeathers have been generous and done us many favours in the past—it’s only right we extend our assistance when we can as well. Lady Lailah only regrets she’s unable to be here in person.”  
  
Lailah shared a closed friendship with the Sekirei clan, once a mercenary group known as _Kaze no Hone_ —the Scattered Bones—under the hire of the old Shogunate. They had fought many battles in the War of the Three Kingdoms, and even assassinated a number of prominent dignitaries. But with the war over and the rise of  more peaceful era under a new Emperor, there was little need for sell-swords or wetwork. The clan sought other ways to make ends meet. Going by a different alias now as the Sparrowfeathers, they currently manage a restaurant in the main business district, serving the best curry buns and hot pot in the area.  
  
“Ah, but the student is almost as skilled as the Master, so we’re still in good hands.”  
  
Mikleo dipped his head, grateful for Eguille’s confidence even as he felt the warmth of pride swell within him. “Have the sightings increased?”  
  
“Well, I don’t know if there were _sightings_ ,” Eguille began tentatively. “Rose doesn’t like to talk about it, but we can tell. She, ah, seems to be seeing and hearing things. People and voices that aren’t always there. Rosh claimed to have heard it once from the storage room. We’d checked it then, but only found items knocked over and scattered across the floor.”  
  
He led Mikleo through the gardens to the back where the family’s living quarters and storage area were located. Mikleo inspected the rooms and hallways, studying the area for disturbances; he could sense a faint ripple of spiritual energy in the chaos and bustle of city noises. There were no other signs of  lurking spirits, however; no tinge of malevolence. Mikleo blessed the area with go-hei and showed Eguille where to place the paper wards and protective amulets he’d prepared for their home.  
  
“You have our thanks again, Mikleo,” Eguille said as he escorted the apprentice back to the front. “Please do come by for dinner with us someday, when Lailah’s back in the city. It’ll be our treat.”  
  
Mikleo nodded, and was about to reply when there came a shriek from within the restaurant. They quickly rushed inside and found the  customers staring, baffled, at a young woman standing and pointing wildly at the table before her.  
  
“Rose? What’s going on, boss?” Eguille’s brows were creased in concern as he moved quickly to the woman’s side.  
  
Mikleo inhaled sharply then—he’d recognised the shine of  the grey normin’s helmet as it scampered from the low table and onto the lap of a young man he was all too familiar with. Thankfully, Eguille and the customers didn’t react to Atakk’s presence. Humans rarely had enough resonance to perceive the spirits, let alone to sense or notice them when they were close by.  
  
Rose however was still waving her hand at the young man—at Sorey and his unusually pointed and furry ears.  
  
“B-But your ears! They’re so… _so_ —! I mean, why are they even _fluffy_?!” she squeaked, holding up the serving tray before her like a ward to keep evil at bay.  
  
“Um, I should take my leave. T-Thank you for the food.” Sorey rose to his feet, bowing awkwardly. He adjusted the blue hachimaki around his head, attempting to hide his ears, only to accidentally knock over an empty cup with his long tail.  
  
“And there’s the _tail_ again!” Rose exclaimed, her voice climbing a notch higher. “Felice, you saw it too, right?!”  
  
“Boss, please calm down. No one’s got any fluffy ears or tails here. You’re scaring the other customers…”  
  
As Eguille and Felice continued to reassure Rose, Mikleo turned to Sorey and whispered, “Follow me; I’ll get you out of here.”  
  
Sorey nodded, reaching for Atakk. Once Mikleo had excused himself and bade his farewells, he led the two outside as quickly as he could, heading down an empty alley away from the bustling crowd.  
  
“Thanks,” Sorey breathed a sigh of relief once they were alone. “You really saved our skins back there—”  
  
“What were you thinking, walking into a restaurant full of people like that?” Mikleo chided, a bit more sharply than he’d intended. “It could have been worse, and you would’ve been in a lot trouble!”  
  
Sorey opened his mouth to protest. “We were just exploring the city! I wasn’t going to enter at first, but none of the humans on the street paid any heed to my ears or tail even when I’m in this form. And they didn’t seem to notice either when Atakk snuck into the restaurant, so I thought we could try some of the mabo curry—! I-I didn’t think that Rose lady had enough resonance to notice anything different…” He trailed off when he saw Mikleo’s exasperated expression.  
  
“She never likes admitting it,” Mikleo said, “but Rose has been able to perceive the obake since she was a child. And since most humans don’t have pointed ears _or_ a tail, it’d be hard for her to miss yours.”  
  
“I haven’t quite mastered how to hide the tail yet. Or the ears,” Sorey admitted. He twitched his ears back, embarrassed, and gave Mikleo a sheepish smile. “You’re right, I was being careless. Sorry.”  
  
“I apologise as well. I hadn’t meant to sound so curt.” Mikleo coughed awkwardly into his sleeve, an action that reminded him briefly of his uncle Michael.  
  
“It’s okay. You were worried about us.” Sorey gave him a tiny grin, and Mikleo furrowed his brows, slightly put out at how easily Sorey seemed to have picked up on that from his tone alone.  
  
Still, it was unexpected, the way Mikleo felt his chest warm at the soft look in Sorey’s gold-flecked eyes, the way he felt the corners of his lip curving into a smile as well. Before either of them could speak however, Atakk let out an abrupt squeak of fear, darting away from Sorey’s hold and into the nearby shrubbery. In a flash, Sorey had changed back to wolf form and leapt forward, placing himself before Mikleo. He growled low in his throat, hackles raised at the sudden appearance of another creature—a heavyset black dog wearing a crimson and white lion-like mask.  
  
The dog sniffed at Mikleo, looking past him with pale and unseeing eyes. This was no ordinary stray, Mikleo thought, but a komainu, a guardian dog-spirit. He flicked his gaze over its collar; he’d recognised the sigil of a red bird gripping a feather and a bone emblazoned into the ivy-green fabric. And attached to the collar was a large silver bell engraved with a single name—Dezel. _  
  
_ Mikleo didn’t think the Sparrowfeathers had ever been aware of their silent guardian-spirit, but this would explain all the sightings in their home at least.  
  
“ _Hanyō_ ,” Dezel snarled the word derisively as he towered over Sorey. “What’s your business with Rose?” _  
  
_ The wolf dipped his head in acknowledgement, but stood his ground nonetheless, his gaze bright and unwavering. “It wasn’t my intention to scare her. I just hadn’t realise she could perceive us. But I promise you, I meant your family no harm.”  
  
Dezel growled, the striped fur along his spine raised as he turned his clouded gaze back towards Mikleo.  
  
“Return it to me,” he barked sharply. Mikleo could feel the komainu’s growing impatience as Dezel paced around them, fangs bared. Sorey didn’t flinch away however, his tail held high as he snarled a warning, keeping himself firmly between Dezel and Mikleo. Dezel must have sensed the strength of Sorey’s spiritual power however, and wisely kept just out of the wolf’s reach.  
  
“My apologies, but I’m afraid I don’t understand.” Mikleo began. He knew he could try to drive the komainu away with his bells and paper charms, but he didn’t wish to force a confrontation or harm the Sparrowfeathers’ guardian-spirit if he could avoid it.  
  
“Don’t play dumb with me! I sensed Lafarga’s essence the moment you stepped into our home.” Dezel pawed the ground, shaking his white mane from side to side. “Now release the name and give it back, or I’ll take it by force!”  
  
“Dezel, please listen. If you can explain more, then maybe—” Mikleo tried again, but the komainu leapt towards him then, teeth flashing.  
  
Sorey was faster, however. He lunged forward, bowling into Dezel and ramming the larger creature against the alley wall.  
  
“Stay out of this, you runt! Or I swear I’ll—!” Dezel howled, twisting and lashing about angrily.  
  
“ _No_ ,” the wolf said, keeping his shoulder pressed against Dezel’s flanks, pinning him into a corner. “Not until you at least tell us _why_ you’re attacking Mikleo. He’s only trying to help!”  
  
In the struggle, the bell attached to Dezel’s collar fell loose to the ground, and rolled towards Mikleo.  
  
When he reached for the bell, Mikleo felt a surge of power emanating from it. The circlet around his left wrist glowed again as well, as if in reaction from the magic seeping out from the bell. There was another surge of energy—this time from within the pack he carried. Muse’s book was shining brightly when he pulled it out, its pages fluttering in the sudden gust rising around him. He didn’t understand what was happening, but amidst the ferocious growls of both spirits, something came over him—a swell of emotion, a rush of images unfolding like brush strokes upon a hanging scroll, the colours vivid and bursting _—  
  
—Memories from a past he’d never lived.  
  
The young woman’s expression remained impassive, but her eyes were violet gems in the fading sunlight—wary, yet keen, with a searching gaze that resonated with him. But she seemed sad, lonesome even.  
  
Still, she brushed the grime from her face, bruised lips curved into a confident smirk as she hefted her trusty baseball bat over her shoulder.  
  
“That’s your final decision then? You’ll take this rabid inugami scamp under your wing, teach him how to be a better guard dog?”  
  
The komainu with the braided mane smiled and nodded graciously. “That I will. The pup never asked to be shackled to such a terrible curse. It’s a cruel act and one I wish to free him from. He deserves a chance.”  
  
The woman feigned a disappointed sigh. “Soft as always, Lafarga. But you understand that breaking such a curse comes with a price, yes? What will you offer in return?”  
  
The komainu rumbled deep in his throat, leaning forward to nuzzle the woman’s wind-blown hair. “The gift of my true name. Lend me your power, friend Muse, so I may free the pup. And in return, I shall keep you and your children’s children in my protection for life.”  
  
“Silly old dog,” Muse said as she made a face, even as her eyes grew brighter, her voice light. She held her book _ Ephēmerís _open towards Lafarga. “All I ever need is your company. You just be sure to take care of old Brad Sparrowfeather and keep this scamp away from trouble.”  
  
The komainu grinned, tongue lolling, and said, “As you wish, friend Muse.”  
  
And suddenly, suddenly, the colours were swirling, coalescing, like blots of paint in oil, dream-drops bleeding into reality, and—  
  
_ —And something came over him, and Mikleo knew what he had to do.  
  
He closed his eyes, willing himself to focus on the images. He reached for a page inscribed with the words _Xoeyebx Neby Matawxa_ , pulling it free from the book. Then holding the page to his lips, he exhaled deeply as he chanted the words, and felt the magic rising in a thunderous cloud around them.  
  
There was a loud rumbling and the cloud finally burst, the page dissipating. The words, now freed from their binds, returned into the silver bell as it fell, chiming softly.

**_  
*_ **

**_  
  
_** “All this time and I never knew,” Dezel murmured, his initial hostility gone now. “Lafarga never had his name stolen; he’d given it freely in exchange for the human child’s help, all just to break my curse.”  
  
With the ebb of magic gradually settling and the vision receding, the dog-spirit had composed himself again, agreeing to speak. He’d pushed up his crimson mask, revealing a battle-scarred muzzle. The white mane of the mask trailed around him and down his back like a cloak.  
  
“What was this curse?” Mikleo asked. He’d led them away to a small secluded spot away from the busy business district, settling to rest in the shade of a lone oak tree.  
  
“As you can see, I’m no true komainu,” Dezel began, lifting his head to allow Mikleo to fasten the silver bell back to his collar. “I was only pup when it happened—a useless stray taken by a shaman to be maimed and butchered, and slowly starved. With the aid of forbidden artes, the shaman raised me from the dead, cursing me to the life of a servile inugami for his nefarious deeds. Lafarga took me in after he devoured the shaman, who had trespassed into his domain. I had never understood kindness up till then, and out of gratitude, I’ve always helped Lafarga watch over the Sparrowfeathers since then.”  
  
“How did you know I had Lafarga’s name though?” Mikleo asked. “I didn’t even realise the words inscribed in _Ephēmerís_ were actually names of yōkai.”  
  
“I didn’t before. But when you entered the restaurant earlier, I had recognised the scent of your aura and resonance—it was the same power as the human child's that I had seen in Lafarga’s memory when he'd died. So, I had thought you were one and the same. That was why I believed he had his name stolen, when an unknown beast attacked the Sparrowfeathers’ home many seasons back. Lafarga had banished it away, but at the cost of his life, and I had been searching for the human child with violet eyes ever since.  
  
Mikleo frowned, pondering over these new details. The Sparrowfeathers made no mention of such an attack before, not even to Lailah. He glanced back at the book in his hands, its pages still and unmoving within the old covers now, much like any ordinary book.  
  
“I’m sorry to hear that about Lafarga; he seemed like a good companion. I’m glad I was able to help return his name to you as well. Did you ever find out what became of the creature that attacked him?”  
  
Dezel gritted his teeth and shook his head. “Nothing, except that it reeked of malevolence and a hunger, deep and all-consuming. Lafarga managed to cast a protection spell over our home before his demise, and it had kept the beast away so far. While I may not be the komainu Lafarga was, the Sparrowfeathers will always have a guardian to watch over them. I’d promised Lafarga that much and I intend to stick to it.”  
  
He dipped his head stiffly at Mikleo. “You have my thanks, human. And you—” Here, the inugami turned to Sorey, his tone suddenly awkward and gruff. “I didn’t mean it earlier, when I called you _hanyō_ …”  
  
“Well, it’s true I’m half-blood,” Sorey said, almost too cheerfully. “Gramps always said it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”  
  
Dezel bristled only slightly, before he heaved a sigh. “You’re not making this easy, are you, wolf? What I’m _trying_ to say is—It’s an overreaction and—Listen, I was wrong for making it sound like an insult, all right?”  
  
“I think Dezel’s trying to apologise for being curt with you,” Mikleo said, unable to hide his grin from showing.  
  
“Oh, I figured as much!” Sorey let out a soft, almost cat-like purr of amusement. He gave Dezel a playful bow, waving his tail amiably at the larger dog-spirit. “But I didn’t want to make you feel bad about it. You don’t seem like such a bad person either, so I’m just glad we got it all sorted out!”  
  
Dezel grunted something under his breath, but wagged his tail in assent nonetheless.  
  
“Keep to your own business—you two have an air about you that seems to invite mischief and trouble.” The inugami said as he rose to his feet, and donning his mask once more, leapt down the path back towards the Sparrowfeathers’ home.

 

* * *

  **  
_v.  
  
_ **

  
“Are you all right? You don’t look so good.”  
  
Sorey had remained in wolf form as he walked close beside Mikleo. Even though they both maintained an easy pace, Mikleo felt a languor settling over him like a heavy cloak, the kind that came with extreme physical and mental exertion, and that left his thoughts in growing disarray.  
  
He shook his head slowly. “I’m fine, really. Just a little tired. There was a lot going on this morning, after all...” Mikleo staggered, missing a step; he would’ve tripped over his own feet had Sorey not moved closer to support him. He held onto the wolf’s broad shoulders to steady himself, waiting for the wave of dizziness to pass.  
  
Sorey flicked a concerned gaze over him, before he twitched his ears forward, a grin tugging at his lips. “Ah, I’ve got an idea!”  
  
Mikleo watched, puzzled, as Sorey moved behind him and crouched low to the ground. Before he could question further, the wolf tucked his muzzle and head right under Mikleo’s legs, crawling under him so he could lift the apprentice over his shoulders and onto his back.  
  
“S-Sorey, what are you—?!” Mikleo clung to the silver-white fur in surprise, trying not to slide off as the wolf straightened up once more.  
  
“Hold on tight, Mikleo. I’ll get you home in no time!”  
  
With an excited flick of his tail, Sorey bounded forward, crossing the clearing in easy strides. He raced down the cobblestoned streets, keeping himself hidden in shadows and quiet alleyways as he darted stealthily through the city.  It wasn’t long before they were back among the hydrangea bushes in Lailah’s garden.  
  
Mikleo slid the shoji door closed once he'd entered the house, back in the comfort of his own room. Setting his futon out on the tatami floor, he laid down with a sigh, grateful to be able to rest.  
  
“Sorry for the trouble,” he said wearily, giving Sorey an apologetic look. “I’m not sure what came over me, but it’s as if I'd expended all my energy once I'd released Lafarga’s name from _Ephēmerís_.”  
  
Sorey sat comfortably beside the futon. He was silent for a moment, lifting a paw occasionally to rub at his muzzle as he thought hard. Mikleo found the human-like gesture strangely comical, almost endearing even. He smiled, before he realised how such a stray thought had lingered and left him staring at Sorey’s profile a lot longer than he should. Mikleo flushed slightly, pulling the covers over his face.  
  
“I don’t have much experience in these things,” Sorey finally said, brows still creased in deep thought. “But I do recall Gramps telling me how certain forms of magic can be extremely taxing—especially artes that draw from your own mana and spiritual powers. Even more so when you’ve a corporeal form as most humans do.” He looked over the apprentice, wagging his tail slowly in a show of reassurance. “You should get some rest, Mikleo. Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye out for any other spirits, in case they get curious about the book and venture too close into your home.”  
  
Mikleo let out tired but amused huff. “Didn’t realise I had offered you an invitation to spend the evening here.”  
  
“Wha—? It’s not like that! I thought it might be dangerous to leave you alone like this—” Sorey tried to explain, ears twitched back sheepishly, only to notice how Mikleo was attempting to hide his laughter behind the covers.  
  
“Sorry, I was only teasing,” Mikleo said, already feeling a little bad. He lowered the covers to met the wolf’s gaze, hoping his face didn’t look as red as they felt. “Admittedly, I do think I’d feel more assured with you around, especially with Lailah being away for several more days. If it’s not too much to ask for your company this evening…”  
  
Sorey’s face brightened. He gave a cat-like rumble, curling up close beside Mikleo and brushing a soft, tentative nuzzle against his cheek. “I’ll be right here, I promise! So, just rest easy for the night and get your strength back. Leave the guarding to me.”

*****

  
When he woke the next morning, Mikleo found a cup of warm tea and two ripe plums placed upon a leaf beside him. Sorey was nowhere to be seen, but the shoji door leading to the veranda outside was open; Mikleo could hear the soft _thump, thump, thump_ of the wolf’s tail against the wooden floorboards.  
  
He stretched slowly as he rose from the futon, feeling less sore already. Once he’d carefully folded and kept his futon aside, he walked out to the veranda, bringing the tea and plums with him.  
  
“Mikleo, you’re finally awake! How are you feeling?” Sorey greeted cheerfully, looking up from where he’d been poring over a large opened scroll with a feathered quill. He had shifted to human form now, his long tail swishing about languidly behind him. _Ephēmerís_ was lying open beside him.  
  
“Much better from the good rest. Thanks for staying and waiting up for me.”  
  
The tiny inked glyphs Sorey was scribbling onto the scroll had caught Mikleo’s interest as he sat down. He sidled closer for a better look. “What are you writing? Ah, so you’re familiar with Ancient Avarost too?”  
  
“I’ve only studied it on my own, so I’m really only familiar with the basics,” Sorey replied modestly. “But it’s been really interesting so far! And not just Ancient Avarost, mind you—I’ve been studying scrolls and books written by humans scholars, and spent some time observing the things you humans create with your own hands. You’re all able to construct and fashion new things from seemingly _nothing_ —painted artwork and crafts; buildings both functional and yet resplendent; loud screeching vehicles that can run, fly, and even skim the surface of the water!”  
  
Sorey tapped the tip of his quill against his chin absent-mindedly, his eyes bright with awe. “Gramps always said humans were dangerous, and that I shouldn’t get too close to the city. But I didn’t think you guys would be so innovative too! Humans seem so fragile, without tooth or claw or spiritual prowess, and with such brief, fleeting lives… Yet, you continue to learn and create things to help you achieve such marvellous feats. It’s just fascinating and admirable, really.”  
  
“Well, we do what we can to survive and fluorish—the same as any living being,” Mikleo said softly, a little taken aback at the wolf’s fervent tone “You’re that interested in the human world, huh? I’ve met a few inquisitive spirits who had taken an interest in human activities, but you’re by far the most, er, enthusiastic.”  
  
Sorey flattened his ears, suddenly self-conscious. He huffed lightly. “Are you teasing again? You seem to do that a lot.”  
  
Mikleo stifled his grin at the wolf’s tiny pout. “I mean, you’d even disobeyed your Gramps and came all the way to the Capital. More than a few times too, by the sound of it.”  
  
Sorey gave a nervous chuckle. “ _Well_ —I hadn’t really mean to, but you know…”  
  
“I suppose it’s all right if he doesn’t find out,” Mikleo reasoned carefully, recalling some of his own similar experiences. He smiled. “Uncle Michael used to reprimand me a lot as a child, when I’d taken to wandering off into the woods on my own. I hadn’t understood it then, that the ‘talking animals’ I had been enchanted with and wanted to befriend were forest-spirits. That not all of them would take so kindly to humans trespassing into their domain, child or not. So, I guess I do understand the appeal our foreign human ways seem to you. The world of the obake and my first brush with it during my childhood was magical—I still hold it dear to me and it’s what led me to tread this path to train as an onmyōji. Anyway, I’m sort of glad you did—you protected me again yesterday, even when you didn’t have to.”  
  
Sorey only shook his head, the ash-blonde tips of his hair glowing as it caught the stray sunlight that filtered down from the awning. “I wanted to help however I could then as I’d sensed that Dezel wasn’t truly malicious. He was only trying to defend his family, after all.”  
  
They continued to talk as the sun rose higher, dewdrops slipping from the hydrangea leaves and evaporating in the growing heat. Mikleo shared the plums with Sorey, watching in amusement as the ōkami bit into the ripe flesh with the same energetic enthusiasm of a large puppy. He recalled Dezel’s words from yesterday, and despite the gnawing curiosity he had about the inugami’s comment about Sorey, he wondered if it was wise to ask.  
  
“Sorey, if I may...” Mikleo began, hesitant, “and I ask out genuine curiosity, truly. But the thing about what Dezel said yesterday…”  
  
“You’re wondering about me being a _hanyō_ , a half-blood, right?” Sorey said easily.  
  
Mikleo winced, feeling his face colour— _was I really that transparent about it?_ —before he offered an apologetic bow. “I apologise if I seem impolite in asking… But yes, I had wondered about for awhile. Because in all honesty, I wasn’t able to tell. Your aura and spiritual energy far exceeds many supernatural beings I’ve come across, even those that I’d helped Lady Lailah exorcise away from during our travels out of the Capital.”  
  
_Strong enough that it’s almost reminiscent of  the powerful deities, of kami._ _  
  
_ “Well, Mother _is_ a Howling Wolf goddess…” Sorey said, almost matter-of-factly.  
  
“A Howling Wolf?” Mikleo’s eyes widened, impressed now. “You’re the son of the great kamuy _Retaruseta_?”  
  
“What—? Oh, no, not at all.” Sorey brushed, cat-like, at his cheek with the back of his hand, and grinned sheepishly. “My mother is Selene Brightface, the goddess guardian of forests, and a descendant of _Retaruseta Kamuy_. Legends say Retaruseta is the strongest and bravest of the Howling Wolves who had descended from the celestial mountain to seek out companionship with humans. His power and wisdom runs through his lineage, so Mother’s very wise. I’ve never met my father but he was mortal, a human warrior from a faraway land. So I may wear the shape of an ōkami, sharing some of the gifts and spiritual powers of the Howling Wolves, but my heart is human like you.”  
  
Sorey glanced back at the scroll before him, studying the inscriptions again before he pointed to _Ephēmerís_. “And what of you, Mikleo? How did you even come by such a book? I can sense a strange power bound to it that masks its presence, but there’s no doubt this is more than an ordinary journal. And the words in your book? I’ve seen some of them recorded in Mother’s celestial scroll too—the names of all sorts of yōkai and even some of the stronger deities. I doubt that’s somehow all just a coincidence.”  
  
“It’s something I’ve been trying to figure out as well,” Mikleo said. He folded his arms over his chest, frowning hard. “The book _Ephēmerís_ belonged to my mother Muse before it was gifted to me by her twin brother, my uncle Michael. He was very cryptic about what it contains, what it’s able to do, so I had been mostly unaware of its true power. But with what you’ve just shared—and coupled with the incident with Dezel—I’m certain now the inscriptions on these pages aren’t just gibberish or text written in an unknown dialect of Ancient Avarost. They are the true names of yōkai and other spiritual entities, and for some reason, they’ve been sealed within _Ephēmerís_.”  
  
The two friends fell silent again, both ruminating over what they had learned from each other. For the first time in a long, long while, Mikleo felt the tiniest flicker of regret, of loss when he thought of Muse now. Was _Ephēmerís_ the reason why she had left in the first place? To fulfil a duty entrusted to her, to keep her only son safe from spirits seeking to wrest away the power of the book?  
  
He’d had fond and treasured memories growing up in Camlann alone with Uncle Michael, but Mikleo also remembered how the villagers had always looked upon him with pity in their eyes.  
  
_What an irresponsible mother, leaving her own child behind and while he was still but a helpless babe!  
  
_ Many villagers still held this sentiment, offended and appalled on his behalf. But with all that had occurred recently, Mikleo felt like he could understand a little, why Muse might have chosen isolation—to wander far from home, especially if it’d meant keeping both her family and Camlann safe from calamity.  
  
“Mikleo?”  
  
He started, stirred from his thoughts at the gentleness and concern in Sorey’s tone. He lifted his head to meet the wolf’s bright gaze. “Sorry, I was just thinking—you were saying?”  
  
Sorey studied him silently, his gaze level but knowing; Mikleo had a feeling that his new friend could already sense something was off. But Sorey only wagged his tail lightly, and said:“It’s fine, I was just worried that you weren’t feeling well again. Anyway! Since we don’t seem to be getting anywhere just sitting here and mulling over things we don’t know about, I thought maybe it’d be more productive if we looked around for more details.”  
  
“But where would we even start? I'd tried asking Uncle Michael and even Lailah for more information, but both had avoided the subject altogether.”  
  
“Well, Muse seemed pretty strong and fearless, even for an average human. I’m sure there must be some spirits in the forest that might have heard of her—they’d never forget such a human like that! One or two could even been friends with her, like Lafarga was. I know of one or two older yōkai who have lived in the Tranquil Forest for years. We could go ask if they know anything interesting!”  
  
It was a plausible enough suggestion. Still, Mikleo remained hesitant as he considered their options. Of course, there didn’t seem to be _any_ better ones, he knew this, but he had to be certain he’d left no stone unturned. He caught the glimmer of excitement in Sorey’s eyes then, and in every swish of the wolf’s tail. It wouldn’t be the first time Mikleo would be dealing with strange spirits in unknown places—he’d faced down his share of wayward and dangerous  yōkai  since the earlier years of his apprenticeship with Lailah. And since both Michael and Lailah had left him to deal with the book however he’d wished…  
  
“All right,” Mikleo said, dusting the front of his robes with an air of finality. “Let’s head to the Tranquil Forest and see if we can find ourselves more answers.”  
  
Sorey nodded, and then waved his hand over the large scroll before he shifted back to wolf form. The scroll quivered, imbued with Sorey’s spiritual energy and magic, and rose into the air, rolling and binding itself shut with a red leather string, and hovered in place just over the wolf’s broad shoulders.  
  
Once Mikleo had mounted and settled himself as comfortably as he could on Sorey’s back, the wolf gave a low, excited howl.  He leapt out of the garden and down the dusty path, racing towards the misty forest bordering the Capital.

 

* * *

  
**_vi._ **

 

It was a strange sensation, Mikleo thought as he clung to silver-white fur, to be riding on the back of a large wolf—one that he never thought he’d experience. He could feel Sorey’s excitement rippling the fur along his spine with every leap. The wolf raced easily through the forest, dashing through the long grass and under ivy draped over low-hanging boughs, bounding over fallen logs and mossy boulders in a whirlwind of delight.  
  
And as he did so, Mikleo caught a hint of movement from the shadows: the faint glow of tiny orbs surrounding the ancient bamboo; the glimmer of watchful eyes that glanced their way. He’d wondered if he should voice his concern of any stalking predators. But Sorey only grinned and flicked his tail, the feathered ornaments on his ears chiming softly in the breeze, and Mikleo could hear a chorus of tiny voices whispering back, as if in reply:  
  
_Oh, look—Sorey’s finally back! Where have you been, Sorey?  
  
So returns the wolfling from his adventuring.  
  
Hey Sorey, did you bring back a new toy from the city? Let us play with it too!  
  
Is that a hu—? Ah, little wolfling, I wonder what old Zenrus will think of this…_ _  
  
_ Sorey bounded past towering trunks of ancient bamboo, barking an ecstatic reply to the echoing voices. The bamboo swayed, as if it were heaving and uprooting itself; when Mikleo gazed upwards, he realised that the trunks were really the long limbs of a large deer-like beast, its antlers and golden mane braided with moss and gossamer-like ivy, the scales upon its body glistening in many-hued splendour.  
  
A _kirin_ , a guardian spirit of the forest. Mikleo held his breath, struck by the creature’s regal beauty.  
  
“You know many sorts of friends in the forest,” he finally said, once the kirin had moved through the brush, disappearing into the shadows. He tried not to be unnerved by the growing buzz around them. He did not sense any maliciousness from the yōkai around them however, only puzzlement and a cautious curiosity. Still, he knew to keep his wits about him, to remain composed.  
  
“Some have known me since I was just a cub,” Sorey replied matter-of-factly, “and many more have been acquainted with both Gramps and Mother, so they’re sort of like family friend, I guess?”  
  
“I see. This Gramps that you speak of _—_ is he also a Howling Wolf god like your mother? Do you all live in this forest?”  
  
“Not only are you a tease, but you’re almost as bold as a nosy cub!” Sorey chuckled, giving Mikleo a sidelong glance. He twitched his ears, amused. “Gramps is part of my family, yes, but he’s no wolf. He’s the twin-tailed nekomata, a cat deity. He is worshipped by some human clans as _Raijū,_ a herald of the god Raijin. But in our tongue, he’s simply known as Zenrus the Thunderous. Mother was injured at the time close to my birth, and Gramps and the other cat-spirits took pity on her, caring for her as one of their own. I was born and raised in their hidden shrine high up the mountain. Elysia has been my home as much as it is theirs ever since.”  
  
“Nekomata… So, you were raised by a family of cats?” This time it was Mikleo’s turn to be amused.  
  
“Yeah!” Sorey tilted his head at that. “I suppose it might seem a little odd…”  
  
“Well, it was kind of unexpected,” Mikleo began. “But Uncle Michael always said family is what you make of it together—and looking at you, it sounds like you’ve been raised with much affection from these cat-spirits.”  
  
Sorey rumbled deep in his throat at that, flicking his tail in silent thanks.  
  
He leapt down from a boulder, running down the path towards the sound of a gurgling stream. Before long, they came across three _kawauso_ , river otter-spirits, paddling about playfully in the water. One of them had a sake bottle balanced upon its belly as it sipped at its drink. The river otters didn’t have much to share however, when Sorey politely asked if they’d ever heard of Muse or her book, so two companions continued on upstream along the grassy banks. Even a family of water spirits, the _kenmun_ , foraging for caltrops in the reeds, and a grumpy _mujina_ wandering in the brush weren’t able to offer any information either, much to Sorey’s growing disappointment.  
  
Just as Mikleo was about to suggest they stop for the day and return to the city, they chanced upon a brown fox and a small grey owl—a _kitsune_ and _tatarimokke_ —conversing by a tree stump in a glade. Mikleo stiffened when he recognised the fox as the one of the shadow beasts who had attacked him in the forest months ago.  
  
“What are you doing here, Lunarre?” Sorey frowned as he approached the tree trump, tail held up stiffly. The wolf clearly still remembered their last encounter as well.  
  
“ _Ack-ack-ackawooo!_ If it isn’t the little prince of the snowy mountain Sorey himself!” yipped the fox in a sing-song voice, lips pulled back into a leering grin. “Have you come from your lofty abode to grace us with your presence? What an _honour!_ ”  
  
“He even has a guest with him today—a pitiful human no less,” the owl trilled silkily. She stared at Mikleo, unblinking, her eyes like pools of glossy, black liquid. “He has a _very_ delectable scent too. Surely you wouldn’t mind, Sorey, if I take just the tiniest peck at those lovely violet eyes…?”  
  
Sorey growled, hackles raised, and both yōkai cowered from the sudden ferocity of the wolf’s spiritual aura.  
  
“You will do no such thing, Symonne. Not as long as Mikleo’s under my guard and within Gramps’ domain.” Sorey glanced back at Lunarre, his gold-flecked eyes burning embers now. “I’ve warned you before about straying too close to Camlann and Elysia’s borders.”  
  
“Oh, I haven’t forgotten, little wolfling—if I’d known he was your pet human back then, I wouldn’t have stalked him at all!” Lunarre simpered hastily as he crouched low. “And I know better than to skulk around where I’m not welcomed. But you see, there’s been gossip among the forest folk today, about you and your little human friend searching for answers. So, I couldn’t help but wonder if it had anything to do at all with old Yomi and her natterings…”  
  
“Who is this Yomi?” Mikleo asked, curiosity getting the better of him. He didn’t like the way Lunarre’s grin grew wider at that, knowing that he’d snared their attention now.  
  
“Yomi is an ancient beast, a bakemono who has lived here even before the Tranquil Forest took root in these lands,” Sorey said cautiously, still glaring at the fox. “I’ve never met or spoken to her before, but I’ve heard that she knows and have seen a great many things.”  
  
“She is _very_ wise indeed—I daresay she might even be as knowledgeable as old Zenrus,” Symonne added, her voice laced with coyness. “I’ve heard her speak about a book of names once, and of another human child who with violet eyes like your little friend here. But Yomi is also known for spouting fairly tall tales. I suppose we’ll never know for sure unless one of us actually asks Yomi herself.”  
  
“Huh, then maybe we will!” Sorey replied. “Where can we find her?”  
  
“Morgrim claims to have seen her out on the High Rock at dawn today, basking. I suppose she may still be there, if you hurry. Be wary though—she has quite the temper now in her ripe old age.”  
  
And with that, Symonne stretched her wings and then took off in a whirl of grey feathers, gliding silently to the dark canopy above them. Lunarre snickered, skulking away into the shadows after her.

*****

  
The sun was westering when they reached the bottom of a gorge. Mikleo glanced around the dry river bed from where he was still seated on Sorey’s back. White and pink valerians grew in small clumps, scattered around the sparse land. A steep, irregular outcrop with a long plateau towered in the sun before them—the High Rock.  
  
Sorey scented the air, flicking his ears at the soft buzzing of insects around them, before he bounded up the uneven incline. “There’s a faint scent I don’t quite recognise, but I don’t sense any other presence here.”  
  
“We might have just missed her,” Mikleo sighed, trying not to let disappointment colour his tone.  
  
“Let’s scour the area for a bit. There’s still a chance we might find some clues if Yomi had really been here this morning, and then we can—W-whoa!”  
  
Mikleo felt a sudden lurch just as Sorey yelped in surprise. He clung at the silver-white fur, looking about in confusion. The wolf scrabbled at the rocky earth, trying to keep his footing as the incline he’d been standing on heaved and shuddered, and slowly began to rise upwards with a loud rumbling noise.  
  
Sorey leapt down to sturdier ground. As he did so, Mikleo saw a long reptilian tail lashing out from behind the rising mound, and he realised then that the incline wasn’t part of the High Rock at all, but a huge yōkai that had been in slumber beneath them.  
  
“ _Who calls on the name of Yomi?_ ”  
  
The yōkai’s deep voice thundered over them, guttural, visceral, like warm bile churning within a belly. Yomi wore a human-like face: her amber eyes were rimmed with dark lashes, her lips a succulent ruby-red, her lustrous mane radiant in the sun.  
  
A small part of his mind was nagging at him to look away, but Mikleo found himself transfixed, ensnared by the pull of the creature’s piercing beauty. He felt Sorey bristling in nervous anticipation under him. However, the wolf continued to hold his ground against the looming  yōkai, his poise steady and his ears pointed forward. The subtle rush of Sorey’s spiritual energy and confident ferocity around him was strangely comforting, and Mikleo dug his fingers into the silver-white fur, keeping himself centred in the action.  
  
“We’re very sorry, ancient one—we had not meant to intrude,” Sorey called, his tone soothing as he inclined his head in a gracious bow. “But we’ve been searching for some information and were told that you might have the answers we need. Would you be able to help us?”  
  
Yomi shook herself, her golden mane and striped fur glimmering in the sunlight. She smiled, lips pulled back to reveal rows of perfect teeth.

_“Younglings and their unwavering boldness. Still, you do sing so sweetly, young cub. As for help… That depends on the knowledge you seek. I have lived many long years in this forest and the lands beyond, but I would not call myself wise, and certainly not benevolent.”_

“We do not ask for much, wise one,” Mikleo said, hopping off from Sorey’s back so he could bow as well. From his pack he retrieved an offering of rice cakes wrapped in bamboo leaves and held it out towards Yomi. “Only if you’ve ever encountered a human—a woman with hair and eyes like my own—named Muse. She’d wandered these lands, long before I was born, and encountered many yōkai, even befriended some.”  
_  
_ “ _Muse, you say?_ ” Yomi rumbled again, before she bent low, sniffing at the rice cakes Mikleo placed on the ground. With a long leathery tongue, she lapped up the offerings, swallowing them in a single gulp. _“Ahh, Muse… A pretty name. A name that I could not forget, even if I’d wanted to.”  
  
_ “So, you _do_ know her?” Sorey asked, his tail waving excitedly.

_“I do, indeed. I care naught the affairs of humans, but Muse… I swore I wouldn’t forget her and all that she had done in her short life.”_

Yomi regarded them again, her piercing gaze sending a shiver of unease through Mikleo, tiny pinpricks of a dozen claws digging deep and crawling up his spine. Suddenly the light around them began to dim, and a growing darkness seemed to unfurl from Yomi herself, tainting and withering the grass beneath her massive paws.

 _“Tell me, blood of Muse,”_ Yomi hissed, her beautiful face twisting into something malignant now, her fangs and claws growing longer and sharper as her tail whipped about, serpentine and tipped with a razor-like stinger. She flicked her leathery tongue at Mikleo as she eyed his pack. _“Do you still carry with you_ Ephēmerís _, Muse’s magic book of names?”_

Mikleo feigned ignorance, one hand reaching for his bow. “I… I’m not sure I understand what you’re talking about.”  
  
_“You_ dare _take me for a fool, human?”_ Yomi snarled, the aura of her malevolence hitting them in waves before she lunged forward. _“If you will not answer, then I will the wrench_ Ephēmerís _from you, and then crush and swallow you both whole!_ ”  
  
Mikleo ducked away just as Sorey growled, leaping ahead to meet Yomi’s attack. He nocked his arrow and took aim, drawing the blue and white feather close to his ear. But he could not release his shot, not when Yomi and Sorey were locked together in a heated battle, whirling around each other in a furious frenzy.  
  
Sorey sunk his teeth into the large yōkai’s shoulder, and Yomi let out a terrible roar as she whipped her jaws from side to side. The wolf kept out of reach from those cruel fangs, but the malevolence seeping from the yōkai’s striped body had encircled him, smothering him and drawing away at his strength and mana. He coughed, even as he kept a stubborn grip on Yomi’s fur, before she finally managed to clamp her jaws around his leg, pulling him free from her. She cast him aside easily like a broken toy. Sorey yelped in pain as he skidded across the ground, bruised and stunned.  
  
Mikleo wanted to rush to Sorey’s side, to attend to his friend’s injuries. But he knew to lose his composure now would mean a painful death for them. Steeling himself as he fought to keep calm, he saw an opening and released his arrow. It whistled through the dark miasma of malevolence, burning blue with a purifying flame as it struck the soft, unarmoured flesh of Yomi’s belly.  
  
Yomi screeched in pain just as Mikleo let another arrow fly, striking her belly again, before her serpentine tail lashed forward to knock the bow from his hand, grazing through skin and flesh. He gasped, moving to avoid the jabbing end of her stinger, only to feel claws raking across his back. He stumbled to the ground, hissing from the searing pain.  
  
Yomi loomed over him and everything in Mikleo screamed at him to get up, to fight back. But the malevolence was stifling, his wounds burning. As Mikleo struggled to stand with the last of his strength, there came a gust of wind all around them, a thunderous roar.  Lightning flashed from the clouds, striking Yomi where she stood, and she screamed, confused.  
  
Mikleo saw a bright, wrathful creature descend from the sky then, its claws and twin tails dancing with fiery sparks. There was another brilliant flash, a howling in the furious whirlwind and Yomi screamed again, her form fading, dissipating into charred dust.  
  
And then, Mikleo remembered nothing, heard nothing but an enveloping darkness.

 

* * *

**_  
vii._ **

  
The first thing that registered in his consciousness was the soft murmuring; a steady, near-constant sound that reverberated all around and permeated his senses, surrounding him like the rumbling of a dozen sleeping cats.  
  
Mikleo couldn’t recall when he’d first noticed the odd sensations, but he was quite certain he was dreaming. A strange, but calming sort of dream: with a moss-like bedding cushioned against his back; a moist and velvet-like cloth rasping over his face, washing away the worst of the grime from his bruises; the gentle purring of sleek-furred and twin-tailed cats huddled by the hearth.  
  
He exhaled softly, the tension easing from his body. Still, he couldn’t quite shake off the feeling he’d forgotten something important; it was like an aching within his bones, a mental itch that always seemed just out of his grasp, but never quite fading back into the liquid darkness pooling around him...  
  
A familiar, piercing howl ripped through the air; he turned towards the sound but saw nothing a deep, all-consuming darkness. He whirled away as the darkness, the malevolence festered and grew into a cloud of enveloping pestilence, turning instead towards the inviting warmth and safety of the earlier scenes of tranquility, towards the rumbling sound of the dozing cats, only to find they were fading fast, turning grey and brittle like ash.  
  
_No_ —  
  
As he took a step forward, he felt the ground beneath him wobbling. His foot broke through the surface and he began to sink through it like quicksand, the once-firm ground now an oozing vicious substance, dark like ink with a glistening crimson sheen.  
  
— _Sorey!  
  
_ Mikleo gasped, jolting awake. Instinctively, he reached around in the dark, relaxing only when he felt Muse’s book close beside him. He winced, feeling the deep, swollen ache within his joints as his body protested from the movement.  
  
“And so he finally awakes.”  
  
The dream was already receding even as Mikleo exhaled slowly, trying to calm his racing heart. He cast his gaze about in the dim light, searching for the source of the voice. To his relief,  he caught a glance of a long tail by the hearth. Sorey was asleep in wolf form, looking slightly bruised with a few bite and scratch marks.  
  
Mikleo found he was lying upon a bedding of dried moss and soft ferns. And curled by his side, with its front paws tucked away, was an old white cat. Its long fur was streaked with a pale blue-grey, and it watched him with intelligent amber eyes.  
  
“Wha—what happened...? Where am I…?” Mikleo asked, mind still whirling from the dream.  
  
“Hush now, little one,” the old cat purred simply. “You’re safe in Elysia. Save your energy and rest so your wounds may heal.”  
  
Mikleo wanted to question the cat further, to ask if Sorey was all right. But his wounds were still aching profoundly and fatigue was tugging him back into the comfortable darkness. He sighed and closed his eyes once more, drifting back to sleep.  
  
The day had grown noticeably warmer when he awoke again, sunlight shining through the window of the small stone hut he found himself inside. This time, Sorey was sitting patiently beside him, wagging his tail as he watched Mikleo gingerly push himself upright. The celestial scroll lay close by the wolf’s side.  
  
“How are you feeling?” Sorey asked, nuzzling his face gently. Mikleo could feel the deep concern radiating off the wolf in waves; he ran his fingers through the silver-white fur in reassurance, taking in the earthy scent of morning dew and the woods from Sorey’s warm pelt.  
  
“Never better, actually.” Mikleo attempted the joke with a wane smile, only to wince in pain again. He stretched his right shoulder carefully, trying to gauge the extent of the ache. Someone had seen his wounds; the lacerations upon his back had been meticulously cleaned and dressed. He swept a worried glance over Sorey, eyeing the dressing over his legs and around his torso. “Are _you_ all right? Those bites and scratches look painful.”  
  
Sorey only wagged his tail, splaying his front legs out in an easy stretch. “I’m fine, honest. I mean, I didn’t think Yomi was going to put up such a fight! But really, it’s not as bad as it seems—”  
  
“Not as bad he says! Truly a foolish kit, you are!”  
  
The two friends turned as the door to the hut opened; Mikleo recognised the voice as the old cat who’d tended to him earlier. He was standing upright now in the manners of humans, dressed in blue robes lined with gold. As he walked through the doorway, Mikleo caught of glimpse of other cat-like figures peering in curiously—all of them had two tails, just like the elderly cat.  
  
_Raised by a family of nekomata,_ Mikleo thought briefly, and remembered he was in Elysia, Sorey’s home.  
  
The old cat approached Mikleo, his bushy tails held majestically behind him. When he reached Mikleo’s side, he shifted his bewhiskered face to resemble that of a sagely man with thick white brows and a long white beard.  
  
“G-Gramps!” Sorey addressed his elder with a respectful bow.  
  
“I’ve warned you before, Sorey,” the elder began grimly. “Not every being you meet are as benign as you presume and trust them to be. And you should know better than to test the strength of one far older and stronger than you, especially a _nue_ who harbours such malice and calamity as Yomi.”  
  
“I was just trying to help!” Sorey protested weakly, ears flat now. “I didn’t think that Yomi was going to lash out the way she did—I just thought maybe we could learn something from her, and—” He faltered under Gramps’ stern gaze. Sighing, he dipped his head in silent apology and turned to Mikleo.  
  
“You got injured and it’s all my fault. I’m very sorry, Mikleo; it was careless and stupid of me.”  
  
“As you should be, silly little wolf kit!” the old cat chided again, but the heat in his tone was already dissipating.  
  
Mikleo felt his heart clench in sympathy for his friend. He cleared his throat softly, bowing low before the wizened elder. “The lightning that struck Yomi at High Rock—that was you, wasn’t it? Thank you for saving us, great one. And the fault doesn’t lie with Sorey alone. I have sought such knowledge on my own volition and had agreed to his suggestion, even though as an apprentice onmyōji, I should’ve been much more aware of the danger in approaching ancient spirits like Yomi.”  
  
The cat studied Mikleo with a cool, curious gaze, before he sighed and sat down. Pulling out a pipe from his robes, he took a long drag and puffed out a wispy trail of smoke.  
  
“You may call me Zenrus,” he said at length. “I don’t suppose either Michael or Lailah have informed you of the nature of Muse’s book, have they?”  
  
“N-No… Only that my mother had wished for me to have it,” Mikleo replied, surprised at the mention of his guardians. He glanced at Sorey’s confused look before turning to Zenrus again. “You know my family _and_ my Master?”  
  
“Sorey isn’t aware of it as he’s still very young. But yes, we Elysians have had dealings with them in the past.” Zenrus took another drag on his pipe, white brows creasing as if he’d come to a decision. “I suppose there’s no sense in keeping details from you any longer. So, listen well, little one.  
  
“You’ve probably realised by now that _Ephēmerís_ contains the sealed true names of many yōkai. Both Muse and Michael had always been shunned by a vocal few their old village, for their affinity towards the spiritual world. So, when your uncle left to train as an apprentice onmyōji in the Capital, Muse had sought out the spirits from loneliness. She’d found comfort in the presence of yōkai, more so than humans, and began to collect their names in a childish hope to bind this companionship to her. Many of these names were given freely in exchange for favours she’d conducted, but some names had been stolen, either by trickery or other forceful means.”  
  
Zenrus paused, his features soft as a tiny grin tugged at his lips now. He nodded at Sorey as he continued. “Unlike her brother Michael, Muse was given to more miscreant behaviour. She’d even tried to trick Selene once—Sorey’s mother—of her true name, even though Selene had won a bet between them fair and square. Still, despite her failings, Muse wasn’t always selfish or needlessly unkind. So, when Yomi had first tried to break through my domain and into Elysia, Muse helped to drive the nue away, stealing the beast’s name and sealing it into the last pages of her book. Thereafter, Muse and Selene remained close friends. She set out to explore the vast lands of Glenwood with Selene for many years, until the last of her days.”  
  
Zenrus puffed on his pipe in thoughtful silence when he finished his tale, his amber gaze clouded with memories.  
  
Mikleo’s mind was buzzing with thoughts as he tried to process what Zenrus had shared. Uncle Michael never spoke of his youth much, even though there was only fondness in his tone whenever Muse was mentioned. And though he’d finally learnt the truth about _Ephēmerís_ , he felt even more uncertain than he did at the beginning.  
  
“I know you two were only curious and had the best of intentions,” Zenrus continued, his tone gentler now, as though he’d sensed Mikleo’s hesitance, “but some names should not be returned. Or if you believe they must be, it will come at a great price—one that I do not believe is worth paying for. Many spirits are far more powerful than you are right now and tenfold as vengeful as Yomi. I understand its value as a keepsake, but there would be no shame in giving up the book for your benefit and the safety of those around you. Even before either of you were born, Muse came to me to help seal away some of the more malevolent names; I can help seal the book away forever or even destroy it completely if you so wish.”  
  
“Destroy _Ephēmerís_ completely?” Mikleo’s eyes widened, shocked at the suggestion. “But wouldn’t that destroy the other yōkai’s true names that are sealed within it as well? The ones who pose no real threat to this world? Would that not destroy their essence and power for good?”  
  
Zenrus only inclined his head, his expression impassive.  
  
Mikleo thought back to his encounter with the inugami Dezel; to the tremor of relief and gratitude apparent within his voice when Lafarga’s true name had been released and entrusted back to him. “But to give up on returning the other yōkai’s names even before trying… That would be so—!”  
  
“Cowardly?” Zenrus said. “And how long does being recklessly brave keep one alive? Yomi is not the only malevolent spirit with their name sealed in the book’s last pages. And now that she’s aware _Ephēmerís_ still exists, she will not stop until she has ripped her name from its pages. She will even consume you in doing so.”  
  
The old cat’s words stung, and Mikleo fell silent. But he also couldn’t find it within himself to challenge them, not when he saw the truth and wisdom in Zenrus’ words.  
  
Sorey watched the two, turning his gaze from Mikleo and then back to Zenrus. He twitched his ears, moving to Zenrus’ side.  
  
“ _Jiji,_ please. I’m really sorry for letting myself get carried away, even though you’d warned me often enough,” he said, gently nudging the elder with his nose. “It’s true we didn’t fully understand the responsibility or the consequences that comes with such power… But _Ephēmerís_ is all Mikleo has left of Muse now, of the life she’d lived once. If he gave up the book now, who will remember her deeds, keep her memories alive? The bonds she’d made with other good and benevolent beings? I know it seems foolish to be bound to such fleeting sentiments, but surely there’s a reason why Muse entrusted _Ephēmerís_ to Mikleo as her final wish?”  
  
Zenrus only made non-committal sound in his throat, his brows still furrowed. But Sorey continued to hold the old cat’s gaze, his ears flat and his tail wagging slowly—a show of respect to the elder who’d raised him, even as he held his ground, pleading for understanding.  
  
“A wise old spirit once taught me that no bond of friendship and camaraderie made is ever wasted,” Sorey continued softly. “That we should never underestimate the strength of one’s relationship with another, and how that sometimes is enough to inspire us to do better.”  
  
The old cat sighed deeply, but relented. He tapped the back of his pipe lightly against Sorey’s forehead in a show of affection, before tucking it back into his robes. Then he rose to his feet, moving towards the door.  
  
“Ultimately, the decision lies with you, child of Muse. Still, I hope you’ll give some serious thought to what you would do with Muse’s legacy, and whether you’re ready for the responsibility of bearing all these sealed names.” Zenrus met Sorey’s bright gaze knowingly, and added: “ _Both_ of you.”

*****

**  
** “I would prefer if you would rest here a little longer. Or at least till you’ve fully recovered.”  
  
Mikleo smiled, dipping his head politely at Zenrus. “I’m grateful for the hospitality and kindness you’ve allowed me here in Elysia, even for this short time. But I don’t wish to intrude any longer than I should.”  
  
The sun had risen three times during his stay in the cat-spirits’ village shrine, hidden in the misty mountain crests that overlooked the Tranquil Woods.  
  
“I’m feeling well enough to make the trek back down,” he said, glancing around at the other nekomata who had gathered around to bid their farewell. “Besides, Lady Lailah will be home in the Capital in a couple more days. I don’t wish for her to return to an empty house and to start worrying about my whereabouts.”  
  
“Don’t worry, Gramps; I’ll be sure to escort him back, all the way to his doorstep!” Sorey promised with a solemn nod, even as his eyes remained bright and his tail was fluffed with quiet excitement. Mikleo noticed the wolf wasn’t limping any more, the bites and scratches from his battle from Yomi already fading. **  
  
** Zenrus was still frowning at his young ward, but even the wizened old cat wasn’t immune to Sorey’s infectious enthusiasm. He hummed, smiling softly, and leaned up to touch noses with the wolf.  
  
“Keep to the marked trail that Kyme and Natalie have blessed and re-enforced with their artes. You will be safe as long as you’re within the range of my domain. Go peacefully now, little ones.”

 

* * *

  
**_viii._ **

**  
** The trek down the mountain was not difficult, but it still took a good part of the day before they finally arrived at the base.

Mikleo was seated on Sorey’s back once more—he didn’t like to admit how much the steep trek was starting to bother his injuries, but the wolf had noticed his silent winces soon enough, and had insisted on carrying him down the last rocky stretch. Shielding his eyes from glare of the sun with a bandaged hand, Mikleo could see the a row of silver birches lining the trail ahead of them.  
  
“The sun’s still pretty high,” Sorey said, looking up at the clear sky, “and I know the shortest route through the forest. We’ll be able to reach the Capital in no time.”  
  
“Shortest route?” Mikleo echoed, surprised. “Shouldn’t we keep to the marked path the way Sir Zenrus advised us to?”  
  
“ _Well_ —” Sorey twitched his ears. He turned his head to meet Mikleo’s gaze, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “We won’t be straying far away from the marked path, so technically, we’d be well within Gramps’ domain. It’s okay, Mikleo. I’ve taken this route countless time before and I’ve never run into any trouble. And the route will definitely allow us to reach your home well before dusk sets in.”  
  
Mikleo remained hesitant at first, but still, he remembered how Sorey had always looked out for him and protected him through the whirlwind of incidents they’d encountered together for the last couple of days.  
  
“All right, I trust in your judgement for this,” he finally said. Then, visited with an idea, he reached into his travelling pack for a small piece of folded paper. He whispered an incantation, and with a soft exhale of breath, imbued it with mana and traces of his spiritual aura. The paper charm—a _shikigami_ —rose from his palm into the air, and flitted silently ahead towards the silver birches.  
  
“It’s a decoy to mask our spiritual presence,” Mikleo explained, when Sorey tilted his head questioningly. “A trick Lailah taught me once, to confuse any malevolent yōkai within the vicinity who might be stalking us and to divert its attention away while providing us with an early warning.”  
  
“Right,” Sorey said, marvelling at the paper charm. “Lady Lailah seems very wise, just like Gramps. I’d like to meet her some day.”  
  
Mikleo thought for moment, holding on tight to silver-white fur as the wolf jogged down the path after the shikigami _._ He smiled, and said softly, “She would really like you too, I think.”

*****

  
They stopped for a rest by a gurgling stream. The shikigami hovered a little way ahead, flitting in the shafts of afternoon sun streaming through the forest canopy. Mikleo was kneeling by the bank, cupping his hands to lift cool water to his lips, when he heard a rustling noise from the clump of reeds before him. Sorey was by his side in a flash, growling a soft warning.  
  
The reeds parted to reveal a small group of monkey-like creatures with long, gangly limbs. They looked upon the apprentice onmyōji and the ōkami with eyes wide as saucers, their reddish-brown fur slick and wet from huddling in the stream. Mikleo recognised the creatures as the family of kenmum they’d spoken to several days before.   
  
Sorey relaxed his guard, his expression soft with concern when he scented the kenmun’s fear and distress.  
  
“Are you all right?” He rumbled softly in his throat at the eldest of the group, waving his tail in a show of friendship. “Sorry for scaring you like that. We’d thought you might’ve been someone else. There’s a very dangerous yōkai lurking around  in the forest—”  
  
The kenmun let out a frightened squeak then, cutting him off with more urgent chittering.  
  
“What’s wrong?” Mikleo asked. He’d caught only a fraction of the meaning behind the agitated chittering, unable to perceive any further beyond the emotion roiling through the kenmun’s thoughts— _stinging clouds, fear and madness, kill and destroydeSTROY_ — _!  
  
_ “This isn’t good, Mikleo,” Sorey said, brows creased with worry. “She says they’ve been hiding here in the stream because a large beast has gone berserk just around the edge of the forest. It has already razed down the bamboo groves and wildflower fields near the east border, driving smaller yōkai from their nests.” The wolf tilted his head, dismay flickering across his features now as he listened to another series of chirrups. “The beast seems to be searching for something or someone, and it’s now heading towards the Capital—towards Ladylake!”  
  
“Yomi,” Mikleo breathed, his gut twisting with apprehension and fear, his mind whirling frantically from the memory of their last battle with the savage yōkai. Instinctively, he reached for Muse’s book in his travelling pack, brushing a hand over the covers. He exchanged a look of understanding with Sorey, and in doing so, realised that he’d already found the answer within his heart.  
  
“We have to stop her,” he said softly, and Sorey nodded, his gold-flecked eyes burning with resolve.  
  
With Mikleo mounted upon his back again, the ōkami raced down the trail and towards the city like a child of the wind, his silver-white pelt gleaming through the dark forest like a burning star.

*****

**  
** Yomi gnashed her vicious fangs as she ploughed through the dense thicket, crushing rock and wood beneath her massive claws.  
  
“ _Show yourself, blood of Muse! You have eluded me far too long and there’s a price to pay for your mother’s thievery. Release my name and perhaps I will only ever split you with my teeth, and pluck the gristle and marrow from your bones. You cannot hide forever, for Ephēmerís_ _belongs to me and I will rend all the lands apart until you surrender it!”_ _  
  
_ When she received no reply, the nue let out a bone-chilling roar that rattled even the sturdiest of oaks. Dark swirls of pestilence billowed forth from her flaring nostrils, wilting the foliage and grassland around her. From where she stood upon a precipice, she could see the cobblestoned path leading from the mouth of the forest and towards the Capital’s gates. **  
  
** Yomi growled, lumbering down the rock face and unto the path, when there came a flash before her, golden and bright like lightning. She blinked, confused at first, only to glimpse the two smaller figures standing several leaps on the path before her. **  
  
** “You will go no further, Yomi!” Mikleo called out as he nocked his purification arrow, aiming it at the towering beast. His heart was thrumming hard in his chest, blood singing with adrenaline in his ears, but he kept his stance steady and his bow arm straight. Beside him, Sorey stood elegant and poised for battle, his gold-flecked eyes gleaming with a renewed ferocity as his lips curled into the barest hint of a snarl.  
  
Yomi only gave a bark of derisive laughter at the sight. _“You still think you can stop me? What are you but a foolish cub and a pathetic human? Your kind are vermin to the likes of me!”_ _  
  
_ And without warning, she charged at Mikleo, ready to crush him with her jaws. But Sorey was already leaping forward to meet her attack, burying his fangs into her tattered ear. She howled angrily, distracted. In the ensuing skirmish, Mikleo drew his bow swiftly and fired two arrows at Yomi’s striped body. The arrows struck her right flank, the silver-blue flames momentarily quenching the swirls of malevolence that seeped continually from her very being. With practiced ease, Mikleo cast his paper charms forward to surround the nue, binding her limbs to the ground with magic.  
  
Yomi screeched, struggling against Mikleo’s spell, but her movements were clumsier here, almost sluggish. For a moment, he wondered if the bonds would hold against her fury. But they were still within Zenrus’ domain and thus, his protection. Perhaps the old cat’s blessings worked against the nue’s own power, suppressing it. Mikleo breathed a silent thanks to the ancient thunder god and prayed it would be enough to subdue their enemy.  
  
Still, Yomi struggled with all her might. Consumed by her rage, she reared up, thrashing about in a frenzy until the malevolence in her burst forth like a flood, breaking through her bindings. Mikleo was thrown off his feet by the sudden force. Half-stunned, he couldn’t dodge fast enough when he saw Yomi lunging at him again.  
  
He heard a scrabbling of paws, felt the ground reverberate beneath him, and something rammed hard against him, bowling him over.  
  
A terrible howl split through the air, and Mikleo felt his heart lurching in his throat—  
  
_No!  
  
_ Sorey had pushed Mikleo away to safety just as Yomi’s tail lashed forward, the razor-sharp stinger slicing easily through flesh and muscle, impaling deep into the wolf’s left shoulder. Blood ran in crimson rivulets down his silver-white pelt, but still Sorey held his head high, bristling and growling.  
  
Yomi gave her tail another careless flick, pinning Sorey against the ground. He yelped in anguish, his sides heaving as he fought to break her grasp and free himself.  
  
Mikleo tried to rush forward to help Sorey but Yomi was upon him in a heartbeat. Driven to near-madness by the festering malevolence, she struck him down with her claws. Mikleo coughed, struggling at the crushing force against him. He felt his strength ebbing away, felt Yomi’s cloying breath and white-hot jaws inching closer around his throat.  
  
_Muse…!_ —He thought, desperately— _Mother… Help me, please!_ _  
  
_ At his plea, the circlet around his left wrist glowed, and suddenly, a thin flash of blue light lanced forward, piercing right through Yomi’s chest just as looming shadows crept over them, shrouding everything in a deep, deep darkness.  
  
Yomi’s terrifying hold around him vanished when the shadows fell, and as he glanced around warily, Mikleo was reminded of his dream in Elysia, wondering if had been an omen. Had he foreseen the destruction of the lands and his own death at Yomi’s hands?  
  
But the darkness did not last; there was a faint flickering ahead and another shaft of light cut through the velvet gloom, glittering like the brightest of stars. Mikleo scrambled after the racing light, until he could just about make out the silhouette of a large white creature ahead—an ōkami.  
  
_Sorey!_ Mikleo’s heart soared with relief at the sight of his friend. He quickened his pace to reach the figure’s side, only to realise with dismay that it was not Sorey at all, but a she-wolf. She bore the same intelligent green eyes as Sorey, flecked with hazel and gold, but she was far larger and taller, and her silver-white coat glittered more radiantly, bathed in the very essence of the sun itself. And dangling from her jaws was Sorey, gripped gently between her teeth like a newborn cub.  
  
Sorey stirred, lifting his head wearily. “Mom…?”  
  
The she-wolf rumbled softly in her throat as she carried her son to where Mikleo stood, enthralled. She set him down beside the apprentice, giving Sorey a gentle lick.  
  
“ _Always in the thick of things, aren’t you?_ ” she murmured fondly, her voice the falling blossoms in a spring breeze. She bent low to nuzzle her son again, brushing her head to his, a small golden flame blazing between her fur. And as she stepped back, Sorey’s brow now burned with a blaze just like her own.  
  
“ _The mark of_ _Retaruseta Kamuy_ — _the gift of my blessings I bestow now unto you,_ ” Selene the Brightface beamed at her son, her eyes crinkling with quiet pride. She looked over her shoulder, ears twitching at Yomi’s faint angry roars as the cruel beast lumbered about in the darkness beyond.  
  
“ _You’re brave and filled with daring, but Yomi’s heart and mind has been swallowed by malevolence,”_ the she-wolf said, her tone now low and grim. _“She will not cease until she wrests back her true name, corrupting everything in her path._ _And even after that, she may continue her rampage, bringing calamity to all. Knowing all this, will you still fight, my little kit?”  
  
_ Sorey closed his eyes momentarily, as if in thought, before he opened them again and nodded. He climbed to his feet, the pain of his injuries forgotten, his eyes blazing with renewed determination and ferocity. “I will fight, so let me your strength that I may protect these lands and my friend!”  
  
“ _Come then, my son, and we will show this wretched beast the wrath and beauty of the Howling Wolves!_ ” Selene the Brightface growled, her voice the thundering echo of rising summer storms, her form shining like the brightest star. The blaze glowing upon his brow once more, Sorey leapt forward into the darkness, calling out a howl of challenge.  
  
The she-wolf turned to Mikleo then, stepping aside to reveal a vast green field, dotted with purple and blue blossoms, spreading out behind her. Standing between the blooming windflowers was a young woman dressed in plain travelling robes, her dusty brown hair worn in a loose braid.  
  
“ _And this is my gift to you, child of Muse,_ ” Selene hummed, before she bounded away to join Sorey in battle. “ _Hurry, for this vision can only last so long. The rest is all up to you!”_ _  
  
_ Mikleo was still standing, dazed, when the woman approached his side. She smiled, her violet eyes bright like jewels in the twilight sun. She gently reached for the book in his hands.  
  
“Muse…?” Mikleo ventured tentatively.  
  
She did not reply, and only continued to flip through the sealed names until she reached the last few pages. Mikleo watched as she tore out a single blank page, lifting it to her lips. She exhaled deeply and the page glowed, revealing several hidden ancient glyphs inscribed upon it— _Yupiowuw Vire.  
  
_ Then, she placed the page into Mikleo’s hand, and drew him close so she could embrace him tightly.  
  
“I wasn’t much of a mother to you. I was foolish then, with more selfish desires than I had cared to admit. And for that I’m truly sorry,” she said, her voice tinged with regret.  
  
“I know you haven’t,” Mikleo said, surprised to realise he held no anger in those words, only understanding. “But you’re here now…! Together we can—”  
  
But Muse only shook her head, silencing him with a gentle look. “I’m only here on borrowed time, thanks to that rascal Selene.” She chuckled softly, her expression growing soft with affection when she glanced towards where the white wolves had bounded off to. “I won’t ask you to forgive me either. For I did what I believed was right, to keep you and my dearest brother safe and happy. Still, this unsettled business with Yomi is my doing—the consequence of my choices. Do you still wish to carry on the burden of _Ephēmerís_ , my dearest? For it is a path that may be rife with anguish and painful decisions, but also one that may bring you the warmest of experiences and friendships.”  
  
“Yes… I wish to be the guardian of the book _Ephēmerís,_ to return the names of good yōkai who seek it, and to ensure the names of the dangerous beasts remain sealed forever,” Mikleo said simply. He buried his face into her shoulder, drinking in the scent of her hair and the windflowers, finding strength and certainty her embrace. “I think my heart had already found my answer, since the day Uncle Michael presented me with your book.”  
  
Muse gave a soft laugh and nodded. “Then may Maotelus’ blade keep you and aid you in quenching calamity!”  
  
As soon as the words left her lips, a fierce gust of wind rose up around them, chasing away the surrounding darkness. Muse held him a little longer, brushing a soft kiss to his brow before she stepped back. She smiled, violet eyes brimming with emotion, as she whispered, “Be well, my son; I will always love y—”  
  
And the vision broke, scattering away like decaying leaves in the wind.  
  
Mikleo found himself standing on the path leading towards the Capital’s gates once more, the sounds of a fierce battle around him. He blinked the mist and stray tears from his eyes, looking down at the strange items he now held in his left hand—the torn page glowing with Yomi’s true name and a ceremonial sword with an intricate dragon engraved into the silver hilt.  
  
He turned towards the fight, watching as Sorey danced nimbly around Yomi, snapping at her heels while she tried in vain to strike him with her claws.  
  
“Yomi!” Mikleo called at the wretched beast as he unsheathed the ceremonial sword, revealing a blade shrouded with silver flames. “This ends now!”  
  
Yomi’s eyes widened at the sight of the blade, and for the first time a hint of fear crept over her features. She bellowed, bristling angrily, and charged towards him with her jaws wide open. But Mikleo was already plunging the flaming blade into the page with her sealed name, slicing through the glowing inscriptions with ease, and Yomi let out a long, terrible scream. She writhed as the page blazed with silver flames, dark blots of ink gushing forth as though from a deep wound. When the burning page was finally reduced to cinders, Yomi too crumpled to the ground, her dark form shrinking and crumbling away like ash until there no trace left of her save the lingering echo of her dying gasps.  
  
The air was still buzzing with the remnants of magic and spiritual energy when Mikleo felt Sorey nuzzling at him, licking his face gently. Mikleo embraced his friend tightly, his fingers finding relief and comfort in the wolf’s warm pelt, in the tenderness of the embrace they shared after Sorey shifted into human form.  
  
They held each other a little longer in the lilac dusk, bruised and battered, but very much alive.

 

* * *

  
**_ix._ **

**_  
_** “Are you sure this will be enough?” Lailah asked again, hovering by his side. She kept up her usual calm demeanour, but Mikleo could detect a hint of worry in her tone, in the way she fiddled with the hem of her sleeves as she watched him. “Oh, perhaps I should’ve made another batch! It’ll be quite a journey before you hit the next town, after all.”  
  
Mikleo let out an amused sigh. He looked up from his packing, putting on his best exasperated face, only to fail, grinning lightly at his Master instead.  
  
“I’ll be _fine,_ Lailah,” he said as he reached for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s only two days’ walk to the next town over, so the meat buns you prepared will be more than enough to sustain us. And besides, summer’s drawing to an end now, so there’ll be plenty of silverberries and chestnuts for us to forage and snack on.”  
  
“You’re right,” Lailah gave a soft chuckle, resting her chin in her hand. “I must sound like a nosy worrywart, just like your uncle! You’ve grown into a fine young man and a remarkable onmyōji in your own right. But I suppose as with all Masters, a part of me will always think of you as my dear apprentice.”  
  
Slivers of of light danced past the city horizon as they walked through the empty streets. The air was still chilly with dawn mist, but Mikleo could already feel the buzz of energy gradually rising as the city stirred awake.  
  
As they rounded the corner past the apothecary’s, he looked up at the familiar rosewood walls and glimpsed the shadow of a masked figure balanced precariously upon the roof of the Sparrowfeathers’ home. Mikleo smiled, giving the figure a small wave. The inugami said nothing as he twitched his ears, but wagged his tail slowly in farewell, the bell on his collar chiming softly in the rising breeze.  
  
When they finally reached the city’s gates, Lailah leaned up to circle her arms around his neck, drawing him into a warm embrace. It had only been a year since Yomi’s defeat, but he now stood a little taller than her.  
  
“Be well, Mikleo,” she said. “I’ve always hoped that whatever path you choose, it’d be one of your heart’s desire and not one born entirely of duty. As sad as I am to finally see you off on this journey, know that I’m also immensely proud of you.”  
  
Mikleo returned her smile, feeling a sudden twinge of melancholy and homesickness within him, even though he’d barely taken a step out of the Capital yet.  
  
“You know you’ll always be family to me, Lailah,” he replied, hugging her a little tighter,  before he bade her a final farewell and stepped through the gates into the clearing beyond.  
  
He did not stay disheartened for long, however. The clearing was bright with blooming peonies, their fragrance wafting around him, and the air was crisp with the promise of new discoveries. Already he could feel the tingle of anticipation rising within him. He quickly made his way to where he knew Sorey would be waiting.  
  
The ōkami was sitting in the shade of a large gingko tree, its green leaves already tinged with gold. He’d shifted to human form, his ears still slanted and velvet-furred, his long tail curled around his waist over his white and blue kosode. The celestial scroll laid unfurled before him as he sat hunched over it, scribbling lines of text with his quill.  
  
“I’d always wanted to ask you more about the scroll,” Mikleo said, peering curiously over Sorey’s shoulder. “You said it was a celestial scroll of sorts, right?”  
  
“Oh, you’re finally here, Mikleo!” Sorey lifted his gaze, wagging his tail in greeting. He nodded at the scroll, gently tapping his quill at a blank space. “Mother was always fond of stories; she collected many of them when she’d wandered the lands and fancied herself a Story-Keeper of sorts.  
  
“Story-Keeper?” Mikleo frowned slightly. “Don’t you mean a Storyteller?”  
  
Sorey only shook his head, beaming brightly. “Well, she has never read or _told_ these stories aloud to me when I was a kit. She just collected and recorded the stories into this scroll, which she had imbued with magic and her spiritual energy to preserve them, keeping them safe. I just read them myself whenever I felt like it.” Mikleo studied the scroll as Sorey scribbled more lines, watching how the texts glowed softly with every stroke of his quill, before the light receded into the scroll.  
  
“Anyway, the celestial scroll is enchanted and will always have space for more writing,” Sorey continued. “So, I’ve been adding stories I came across myself to Mother’s collection—including all the things that had happened since I first met you in the Tranquil Forest, and up until the point where we fought Yomi. And now that we’re setting out on another journey together to return the sealed names, we’ll get to see lots of different things, and experience even more new discoveries! Imagine, Mikleo, all the really cool tales I could write about—it’d be like a celestial record of our adventures together!”  
  
He paused, gold-flecked eyes bright and impassioned, before he realised he’d been rambling. He flattened his ears and met Mikleo’s amused gaze with a silly sort of smile. “Sorry, I got a little carried away.”  
  
“I hadn’t quite notice,” Mikleo said, attempting to hide his amusement behind an elegant hand, only to chuckle softly.  
  
Sorey’s face was dusted with a tinge of rose, but still he grinned and let out a cat-like purr as he leaned closer to nuzzle at Mikleo’s neck. “Is it okay if I keep writing about your story? About _our_ story?”  
  
Mikleo flushed at the touch, his heart soaring with a rush of affection for his friend. He turned and kissed Sorey’s cheek gently, much to the wolf’s surprise.  
  
“I would be honoured.”

 

* * *

**_  
epilogue._ **

The onmyōji Tsumimori Mikleo spent many long years wandering the lands of Glenwood, returning what names he could from _Ephēmerís_. Some names, like Yomi’s, he guarded closely and kept sealed, if only to sustain the balance of power between the mortal and spiritual world. His companion, the silver-white wolf deity, _Tewu-Huaws Kamuy_ —Sorey the Fireheart, in the human tongue—was never far from by Mikleo’s side, the celestial scroll hovering occasionally over his back. Legends say the two can sometimes be seen exploring the pulsing stars together across the velvet expanse of the celestial skies, even to this day.  
  
Some stories say Mikleo eventually returned to the Capital once he had returned all the names and favours owed in Muse’s old book. But court life had never suited him well, so he left the city almost as soon as he’d arrived, and continued to live life on the road with his ōkami companion. The pair were sometimes seen to be travelling in the company of various sorts—bakemono, gods, and humans alike. But the two were always together, side by side.  
  
When Mikleo finally approached the twilight years of his long life, he headed to the lofty heights of the hidden mountain shrine, Elysia. There he passed on quietly in the presence of his dearest companion, the ōkami Sorey, and was never seen or heard of again.  
  
There were times however, when the night skies were crystal clear and the moon waxed its fullest, where one could hear the keening howl of the white wolf as he sang from a jutting cliff. And if you looked through the mist long and hard enough, you might even catch a glimpse of another, smaller grey wolf with violet eyes, singing together by _Tewu-Huaws’_ side.  
  
And once they’d finished singing the howl song,  the two wolves would nuzzle each other tenderly and rush down the side of the cliff, their long tails—one white like a burning, summer flame, and the other as silver as dewdrops at dawn—trailing out behind them before they disappeared once more into the long grass.

 **_  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
  
—End—  
  
  
_ ** **~.*.~** **  
  
  
**

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this AU is loosely based on _Natsume Yuujinchou_ , but isn't inspired by the _Ōkami_ game. That said, **[the OST](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mvp4iZIyv-s)** is pretty awesome background music to write battle scenes to. 
> 
> Tsumimori Mikleo - As Mikleo never knew his father, he took on Muse and Michael's family name, Tsumimori [積守] is written with the kanji for _conviction_ and _guard/protect_. "Tsumi" also sounds like [罪], which is the word for _guilt_ or _violation_ , a reason why Muse and Michael were shunned as children by certain groups in their old village. 
> 
> Sumeragi no Lailah - The Sumeragi [皇] clan are distant relatives of the old Imperial family highly attuned to the spirits.
> 
> Maotelus - A powerful dragon worshipped as a benevolent protector of Glenwood. The Capital is home to one of his five Grand Shrines.
> 
> Yomi's name is a reference to [黄泉], the Japanese word for the land of the dead ("Way of Darkness").
> 
> Malevolence here works essentially the same as in Berseria/Zestiria, which is in turn very much inspired by the Shinto concept of kegare [穢れ・汚れ] = "defilement/impurity".  
>  
> 
>  **True Names in Ancient Avarost:**  
>  _Xoeyebx Neby Matawxa_ \- Guiding Wind Lafarga  
>  _Yupiowuw Vire_ \- Devourer Yomi  
>  _Tewu-Huaws_ \- Fire-Heart, Sorey's true name 
> 
> **Glossary of terms:**  
>  **Aka-gome onigiri** \- Red rice ball.  
>  **Bakemono/Obake** \- A class of shape-shifting preternatural creatures in Japanese folklore.  
>  **Gohei** \- A type of wand made of wood and decorated with zig-zag strips of paper streamers (shide), and typically used in purification rituals to bless, cleanse or exorcise a person or place of negative energy.  
>  **Kami** \- Divine spirits or phenomena/elements of nature, some of which are worshipped in the religion of Shinto.  
>  **Kekkai** \- A protective spiritual barrier or magical force field to ward off evil spirits and negative energy.  
>  **Retaruseta Kamuy** \- The White Wolf god or " **Horkew Kamuy** " ("howling god") of Ainu legend.  
>  **Ofuda** \- An amulet or talisman, usually issued by a Shinto shrine and hung in the home for protection.  
>  **Onmyōdō** \- "the Way of Yin and Yang"; a traditional Japanese esoteric cosmology, a system of divination and spell-casting.  
>  **Onmyōji** \- A practitioner of onmyōdō who's usually appointed by the Imperial government.  
>  **Shikigami** \- Conjured beings/spirits summoned as a familiar to serve the invoker.  
>  **Yōkai** -supernatural monsters, spirits, and demons in Japanese folklore. Yōkai are diverse, ranging from the malevolent to the mischievous. Some are also benevolent and bring good fortune to those who encounter them.
> 
>  **Types of bakemono:**  
>  **Kawauso** \- River otter.  
>  **Kenmun** \- A hairy water spirit, which looks like a cross a between a kappa and a monkey.  
>  **Kirin** \- A mythical hooved beast of purity and goodness, a guardian of forests.  
>  **Kitsune** \- Fox.  
>  **Komainu** \- Lion-dog. A noble beast that stand guard at the gates of holy shrines/temples, castles, and sometimes private homes.  
>  **Inugami** \- Dog-spirit, raised from the dead with forbidden arts and transformed to work as a familiar (or a spirit of possession) for the invoker.  
>  **Mujina** \- Badger.  
>  **Nekomata** \- Large cat spirit with a forked tail. The most dangerous and powerful nekomata are said in live high in the mountains.  
>  **Nue** \- A legendary Japanese yōkai/chimaera, with the face of a monkey, the body of a racoon-dog, the tail of a snake, and the limbs of a tiger. It is said to be a vengeful spirit, a harbinger of pestilence and calamity.  
>  **Ōkami** \- Like the fox-spirit, wolves are sometimes worshipped. In some folktales, they are as both a curse and blessing for travellers in dark mountain passes/forested roads. Wolves are also sacred great gods to the Ainu.  
>  **Raijū** \- A legendary "thunder beast", composed of lightning in the shape of a wolf or large wild cat; the companion of Raijin, the Shinto god of lightning, thunder and storms.  
>  **Tatarimokke** \- A "curse child", the spirit of a dead baby which resides in the body of an owl.
> 
> *****
> 
> I didn't think this one-shot would end up this long, whew! But I really enjoyed working on this AU. There's a short side-story that I'd like to write for this AU, in which Zenrus invites Michael and Lailah to Elysia for a tea ceremony that turns somewhat into a discussion of arranged marriages, much to Mikleo's mortified horror and Sorey's fascinated delight. IDK still have a few ideas I'd like to play with for this AU lol. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Comments and critique are welcomed for my fics—I'd like to hear what you think, if you've enjoyed this so far!


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